


One Golden Glance (of What Should Be)

by BlueSelenitas (lillylua)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, But We Can Rely On The Boys For Humor, Drama, Everybody Lives, Fluff and Angst, Freddie Is Very Much Alive, Idiots in Love, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Minor Brian May / Anita Dobson, Mutual Pining, Slow-ish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-11-16 12:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillylua/pseuds/BlueSelenitas
Summary: After Brian breaks his wrist a few days before Queen is supposed to start a massive world tour in celebration of their 50th Career Anniversary, the band reluctantly agrees on searching for a backup guitarist to step in if Brian’s problematic injury becomes an issue in the middle of the performance.What Roger least had expected, though, was to be faced with someone who accidentally evoked painful memories of the most difficult decision of his life or even worse, that she happened to be a brilliant musician whose resemblance to himself and Brian was absolutely uncanny.Naturally, he was sure she probably had nothing to do with him or everything he had given up. She was there just to aid the band when necessary and to serve as a painful reminder of what he had lost.Or so he thought.Aka: The Lost!Baby Maylor story no one asked for.





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys!! Welcome to my newest insanity!! Although, I promise I have every intent of keeping this one under twenty chapters or so help me God. 
> 
> I was going to post this only tomorrow or Thursday, but my amazing beta and sister, @marveltrwsh, got me so hyped that I decided to do it tonight before I lost my confidence.
> 
> This story is very special to me. I had two main ideas when I started writing for this fandom and, as one got 60 chapters, the other was kept in the dark for so long that my guilty was eating me alive. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a Maylor child. I’m glad to finally allow this one, already a grown up, to shine on her own way. 
> 
> A few things to keep in mind regarding this story:
> 
> \- All mentions and implications of mpreg here follows the same biological, historical and social principles of my other story “Give Love (That One More Chance)”. But it’s not necessary to have read that work to understand this one. Totally different universes on other matters!!  
> \- This is an AU that starts diverging a lot from our normal timeline as we enter the two thousands and our story starts officially in 2020. Our Beloved Freddie is very much alive and Queen is still together. But I’ll let the characters explain things as the story goes.  
> \- As much as I would have loved it, I won’t be able to update this one daily, as I did with GL(TOMC). Updates will be frequent, though, and I’ll do my best to do it at least once a week, if not twice. Diverging from the other one, as well, I do not have a head start of 10 chapters in this one. It will be a gradual work. Sorry about that! 
> 
>    
> Also, once more, my only request is for none of these works to be brought to the attention of Queen, the BoRhap cast or anyone related to them. This is purely fiction and a way to explore my imagination, which is oddly obsessed with dramatic baby related plots. 
> 
> This is already too long. Sorry, I’m nervous! Without further ado… 
> 
> Enjoy!

Roger could already feel the telltale signs of a headache beginning right on the front of his head. Between the myriad of different guitar styles he had already listened to that day, it was truly a miracle that his brain hadn’t started throbbing hours earlier.

The drummer tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose and pressed his eyes shut in the hopes of delaying that annoying ache for, at least, a few more minutes. From a few feet away, he heard Brian politely dismissing the guitarist that had just fervently auditioned for them as if he was trying to open a crack on the floor with his harsh notes alone.

Suppressing a sigh, he carefully placed his sticks on the flat surface of his nearest drum and got up from his seat to join the others for what he was sure to be another small argument. They had been going through auditions for the greatest part of the afternoon and their moods were gradually worsening with every single musician who failed to meet their expectations.

He still thought that the whole thing was a massive mistake. Not their tour, of course. He had been, actually, one of the first ones on board with the idea of going on the huge world tour in celebration of Queen’s fifty years anniversary. They hadn’t done something like that in a while, all of them a bit busy with their parallel projects and personal lives. With a band as successful as theirs, they could afford the luxury of laying low for a couple of years before releasing a new album or performing live for thousands of people.

A few decades ago, they actually considered stopping and settling down. Heavens knew that John was dying to spend some actual time with his family while Freddie needed a break from the press on his heels all the time. Even Brian was desperate to finish his studies and Roger himself had been trying to put a greater effort in making his marriage work. However, as it had happened in the past, they all just missed working together too much to be apart.

Queen greeted the two-thousands with a massively successful record and, as the years passed, more generations became fans of their work, which the new critics labeled as timeless and, apparently, still relevant even among the ocean of new musicians who seemed to surface in bulks these days.  Their band never lost its majesty and whenever a tour was announced, tickets were fast to sell and venues quick to be filled to the brim. Not much had changed regarding their brilliant careers. Their personal lives, on the other hand, had suffered a few significant alterations.

Between divorces and marriages, the media had plenty of field days in the past decades with the four of them. The most significant of them all, naturally, being Freddie and John’s private wedding back in 2011 that, somehow, got leaked to the press and the unexpected event was all people could talk about for a while. To them, though, the blossoming relationship between their friends came as no surprise. The two of them had always been incredibly close for _decades_ and, even if it had taken forever for the duo to realize their true feelings, their love was stronger in the end.

Roger could still remember how completely wrecked John had been after Veronica’s mournful passing a few years into the twenty-first century and the drummer thanked the heavens every day for Freddie being there to put him back together. Having just come out of his divorce with Jim, even if it had been a friendly one, had taken its tow on the singer and the two men had found in each other the missing pieces to make their hearts whole again.

Even now, after so many years together already, Roger could still see how Freddie’s lively eyes sparkled as he looked to his husband from across the room. The bassist had busied himself with studying the file of the next musician to be called from the dreadful lot who had showed to answer their job offer. He knew that John wasn’t too pleased with the idea as well. Being a private man, the notion that a complete stranger would be joining their tour in such an important position, even if just for a while, wasn’t agreeing with him at all.

“You alright, Rog?” Brian spoke with a worried tone next to him as a large hand gently clasped his shoulder.

Looking up, the drummer could see a small frown on the taller man’s face, his hazel eyes shining even through his own tiredness as he patiently waited for Roger’s answer. The guitarist’s palm felt warm on his skin, the soft material of his own shirt not doing much to keep the sensation at bay, and he felt the ever present knot on his stomach getting a bit tighter.

“Just a headache.” He offered with a small smile and a casual pat on the hand touching him. “That last lad needs to clean his bloody ears if he calls that a decent rhythm.”

“He was quite green, wasn’t him?” Brian mused with a chuckle and softly squeezed the drummer’s shoulder before pulling back his hand.

Roger immediately missed the contact, but pushed the thought aside and snorted his agreement. He had a few more colorful words to call that fella, but he bit his tongue and nudged his friend in the direction of Freddie and John, who were already discussing how awful that last candidate had been.

Having Brian closely walking by his side and the sight of their happily married best friends made Roger’s heart clench a little bit inside of his chest. At that point, he was already more than used to the feeling and quickly shut it down before his pining became too obvious. After so many years, he liked to think that he had become a master of that particular art.

As hard as he had tried to carry on with his life, Brian Harold May had always been the one he truly loved and, honestly, he was fairly certain nothing could ever change that. Because, bloody hell, Roger had done his very damn best to get over that silly crush that only insisted to grow stronger and deeper as the years passed. He had married, _twice_ , and had given all his effort to be a good husband and a good father. When his second divorce came, though, he just didn’t have the strength anymore to attempt a third time. Instead, he focused on his children and even had a few flings that lasted for no longer than a blink. But that had been it.

He couldn’t point, precisely, when he had realized that he was madly in love with the guitarist, but, by then, it was already too late for him to do something about it without running their lives. Brian was his _best friend_ , for fucks sake. A happily married one, while we are at that. Only a blind man wouldn’t see how profound was his bond with Anita, who, bless her heart, had always been a true dear to Roger and the boys. There was really nothing else for him to do other than to face the facts that he and Brian were never meant to be together and suck it up.

He was a seventy years old man and should know better. Yet, he just couldn’t control his heart as much as he would have liked. Brian could be the love of his life, but he would sooner kill himself with his own drumsticks before he opened his mouth to strain their friendship with unrequired love confessions, thank you very much. Let the misbehaving organ flutter and pirouette as much as it wanted. Not a whisper would pass his lips.

Pinning for Brian had only brought him hurt and false hopes. The only taste Roger had experienced of what would have felt like to be loved back by him had turned out to be a heartbreaking event that the guitarist couldn’t even _remember_. Worsening, the drummer had been left all alone to deal with its consequences and the constant regret that he carried in his heart every single breathing second of his life for his painful decisions.

When the unbearable memories of a soft starry blanket, tiny fists and the never fading sensation of the small weight forever leaving his arms threatened to slip from the back of his mind to haunt him once more, Roger shut his eyes again and shook his head. He had promised to himself not to dwell on those thoughts. There was only one day of the year he usually allowed himself to feel completely miserably about it and it wasn’t that day.

Pulling himself together and thanking the heavens for his friends not noticing his momentary discomfort, he approached the couple and sighed loudly once he realized how thick the block of papers on John’s hands was. If he had to listen to another wannabe-rock-star butcher one of their songs again, he probably would throw the blasted sod out of the window.

“How many more incompetent people are out there?” He inquired tiredly and crossed his arms to further indicate his annoyance.

“More than my ears can handle.” John deadpanned as he flipped through the papers one more time. 

“Oh, stop it! You two are just being mean now.” Brian chipped in with a small pinch on the drummer’s side and a reprehensive look directed to Deaky for encouraging him.

Freddie observed as Roger half avoided the reprimanding touch and the bassist merely rolled his eyes at him before he spoke with a certain tone. “No one is going to be perfect, darling. They aren’t our Brian. But we do have to find someone and _soon_.”

At that, the guitarist felt his cheeks heating out a bit from the indirect compliment and thankfully nodded at the singer for his support. Truth be told, he could quite relate to Roger for feeling so exhausted already. They had been auditioning people since shortly after lunch and, so far, no one had actually fit for what they were looking for. Maybe a couple of weak close ones, but there had been always something missing.

The guitarists that had showed up were either entirely too loud, boringly bland, all over the place or just didn’t match with the style of the band. No one had _clicked_. However, time was running out and they didn’t really have much of a choice. The first show of their massive tour was only a week away and Brian’s wrist was showing no inclination of magically healing overnight. With a tour of that scale, a celebration of the fifty years of their band, cancelling things just wasn’t an option. Even if the lead guitarist had embarrassedly fell and successfully broken his wrist four days ago.

Stadiums had been sold out and the promotional stuff alone had reached massive proportions. It was a six months tour, covering both ends of the globe and a ridiculous number of concerts. They would be running from one country to the other with very small breaks and calling off or postponing something like that was nearly impossible. Their fans had planed, spared money and done great sacrifices to see them live. He couldn’t make himself disappoint them like that.

Technically, he could still play. The cast on his right wrist kept it pretty immobilized and exercising his fingers was, in fact, part of his recovery. Naturally, the doctor had meant wiggling it, not playing a two hours concert every night for half a year. He _could_ play, just not for long. Therefore, it had been his own suggestion that they found someone to play in his place just so he could give his injury a rest for a few intervals. Somehow, he felt that the fans would rather have a stranger playing for a couple minutes than not having a show at all.

At first, his bandmates had been completely against it. John had suggested different alternatives such as more interactions of Freddie with the crowd or even drum solos, but Brian hadn’t been too comfortable not having a backup. If his wrist started to hurt too much in the _middle_ of a song, they would be pretty screwed. For, if in the past he would have stubbornly pushed through the pain, now he knew better than to risk a permanent injury out of pride. Begrudgingly, they had somewhat agreed with him that they needed someone to step in, in a matter of seconds if necessary and, after the swelling became manageable, their search had begun.

They did consider calling a few good friends or guitarist they already knew that could work with them with minimal bumps, but that idea didn’t go very far. It all had happened so unexpectedly, that pulling out one of those people from their plans in such a short notice in order to commit to a project of that caliber just wasn’t very doable and Brian would hate to impose something like that on them. With that in mind, they had gotten in touch with a few contacts on the industry and put out the word of their need for an emergency musician who would be willing to play under those conditions.

“We’re going to find someone. That guy with the dragon tattoo wasn’t half bad.” He offered with a hopeful smile and Roger groaned next to him.

“He didn’t get the right cue a single time, Bri.” The drummer spoke bitterly and Brian had to suppress a sight for he wasn’t wrong.

“That’s true, darling. We need someone who can pick up from where Brian stops right on. Someone whose style fits the band.” Freddie conceded and mused excitedly. From all of his friends, he had been the most supportive of his bold endeavor.

“We would need a godsend angel or a robot created for that singular purpose to accomplish that.” Roger offered with a defeated grimace and continued, turning his attention to John. “Tell me we don’t have to go through another _cool_ dude with more ego than skill, please.”

“Actually, the next one is a girl.” The bassist spoke nonchalantly as he singled her paper out and placed the others on the coffee table nearby. “At least, her name is Ann Meyer.”

“Let’s not keep the lady waiting. Shall we?” Said Brian as he already started to move towards the door.

At least, he hoped whoever came next would bring something different for a change. His wrist was starting to hurt and he didn’t know for how much more they would be able to keep up with the auditions. They just needed to find someone who could play decently and on cue. It couldn’t be that hard. Perhaps, the young lady could finally be the chosen one.

Praying for that small blessing, he tried to keep his expectations at bay. It wasn’t as if she would change their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe this is finally out here. You wouldn’t guess how nervous I am about this one.
> 
> If you are already familiar with my writing style, you’ll notice that, as time passes, more details will be unraveled and the pillars of the plot will be fortified with further details. It’s a, somewhat, long process. This chapter served just as an exposition of the facts so far. And you can, definitely, expect POVs from all of the boys.
> 
> Also, I’ll probably continue calling them “boys” even if they are old and grey here. They will always be my boys. <3
> 
> Now, I would like to address a few things.
> 
> First, let me apologize for killing Veronica. We all know how much John loves her and I just couldn’t bring myself to picture them having a divorce. I thought about killing Jim, too, but, contrary to popular belief, I’m not that evil and the death count was already too high!
> 
> However, I just couldn’t picture this story without my side Deacury and the thought of it made my heart all heavy. I need my boys together. <3
> 
> Secondly, please don’t hate on Anita in this AU. She is Brian’s best friend and he loves her very much. He is, though, very much in love with Roger. Has been for decades. He just happens to be better at hiding it and he didn’t have to deal with the same devastating situation Roger had to. More on that in the future.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading!! If possible, please leave a comment or a kudo. Your support truly motivates me to write every day. <3
> 
> Lots of love!  
> Xx


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen conducts yet another audition in their search for a decent guitarist and get an astonishing surprise while at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys!! I’m back!! Sorry for taking so long to update!! However, because of the extra time I’m taking, the chapters will be consistently longer than what they used to be on my other work. Promise. <3 
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your support and interest on this work!! I appreciate it with all my heart!! I’m incredibly nervous about this one.
> 
> My dear @marveltrwsh, you are a true hero for putting up with me and not strangling me in my sleep. Thank you, once more, for your amazing beta work, sis. You are the best. <3
> 
> No major warnings apply to this chapter, I believe. But, there is a great deal of angst. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

Roger took a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling, as if the bloody thing had a solution for their problems. His frustration was becoming nearly palpable and he wanted nothing more than to light a cigarette and have a drink. Brian would probably chew on him for it, though, and, as much as he enjoyed hearing his voice, that particular old rant just wasn’t worth it.

A sudden cheeky pat on his bum quickly startled him to look around and he was graced with Freddie’s smirking face as he headed towards the sofa, where John was already sitting and sporting an amused smile poorly hidden on his expression. Roger narrowed his eyes at the couple and, reluctantly, made his way to the closest empty chair. If he let his body fall on it with less grace than usual, they could damn well blame his mood for it.

They were at a rather large apartment, nearer the center of town, that had been converted into a simple studio for jam sessions and the likes. Whenever one of them weren’t quite feeling like driving all the way to the other’s place, meeting on a middle ground was the perfect solution for avoiding unnecessary drama. Also, the acoustics of the place had Freddie jumping around in excitement since the first time he had set foot on its dark hardwood floor. It had seemed like a good idea to have the auditions there, a neutral camp. While they were at the back, on what used to be two massive bedrooms and now housed an array of instruments, a bunch of applicants to the position waited for their turn on the living room.

From his spot on the large leather chair, Roger could see the guitarist politely instructing the person in charge of coordinating their guest to allow the next on, the so called Ann Meyer, to come in. After so many people, he was kind of getting tired of the same drill as well. However, he knew it was important that they conducted a small interview to make sure the person wasn’t an asshole, before actually letting the musician show their skills, or lack of it. So far, odd figures aside, the drummer had already seen the same variation of cocky young men with an unnecessary amount of gel on their hairs way too many times in a day for it to be healthy.

To his delight and relief, the person who walked right behind Brian only a few minutes later seemed to be nothing like the others and he could already tell she would be sight for sore eyes. When he finally got a good look at her, though, he felt a familiar pang in his heart and the air being knocked out of his lungs. He quickly schooled himself, though. That wasn’t the first person who made him guiltily wonder and surely she wouldn’t be the last. That was just one of the burdens he had to pay for his terrible past decisions and he would bear through it. However, he couldn’t deny that her resemblance was uncanny.

She had her golden locks pilled on a lose bun on top of her head, but he could tell that, if let down, her wide curls would look like a wild halo around her face. Her sharp blue eyes were beautifully framed by her arched bangs, which also accentuated the elegant shape of her high cheekbones. With her straight nose, small plump lips and delicate squared jaw added to the mix, Roger felt like a knife was being slowly twisted in his chest. As she stood next to Brian, nearly as tall as him with her high heeled boots, and sweetly smiled at them, that sensation only intensified.

“Welcome, darling.” Freddie greeted her as he ran her eyes through her outfit and gave her a tiny nod of approval. “Why don’t you take a seat and tell us a bit about yourself?”

She nodded at that and Roger could see she was slightly nervous as she bit her lip and carefully sat down on the chair Brian politely pointed to her. The guitarist had also taken his place back on the sofa and then the four men stared at the young looking woman waiting for her to begin.

“Thank you for seeing me today.” Ms. Meyer started with a melodious voice as her fingers played with the hem of her black shirt. “I’m not sure of what to say, though. What would you like to know, sir?”

Freddie gasped and John chuckled next to him. Out of everybody who they had talked to that day, that certainly was the first time he had been addressed like that. He had never been much of a fan of such formalities, but he couldn’t, for the life of him, get mad at that girl. She reminded him of someone. His brain cells were quickly running all over his head trying to figure out _who_. Every time he thought he had it right, something seemed off. But he would get there.

“None of that _‘sir’_ nonsense, dear.” He spoke in a casual tone and ignored the amused looks from his friends. He was old, not archaic. “You can start telling us more about your music. Do you play any other instruments besides the guitar, darling?”

“Right. Sorry.” She apologetically replied and chewed on her lip before answering. “Actually, I’m a drummer. I’ve always loved percussion more than anything else. But there’s something about guitars that I just don’t seem able to put them aside. I can play them fairly decently, though, don’t worry.”

Brian blinked at that as a pleasant small shock wave took hold of him. Everyone before her had been so eager to talk about their _phenomenal_ guitar skills that it sounded quite nice to have someone admitting it wasn’t their first instrument of choice. That girl looked like she was full of surprises. He just prayed that she could actually keep up with their rhythm. By far, she had already been much more of a delightful company than those bragging guitarists had.

“Are you a professional musician?” John asked with a polite smile as he scribbled something on her file. He had insisted on writing down his personal notes on everybody who had walked through that door.

“No, I’m not. It’s more of a hobby.” The girl honestly admitted and smiled apologetically to them.

“And what do you do for a living, sweetheart?” Roger inquired with a soft tone and hoped his discomfort didn’t show through it. She seemed to be a good person and he did not want to misjudge her for how she ridiculously looked like his most precious guilty daydreams.

“I’m an aerospace engineer for NASA.” She politely spoke and took a deep breath before continuing, eyes sparkling at a subject she clearly was passionate about. “I just finished overseeing my division’s prototype of an airbreathing propulsion system and our model was successfully launched. I’m here on a sabbatical year. I love space, but getting things there can be a bit of a headache.”

Roger swallowed dryly as she talked about her job and he could feel his fingers digging on the arms of the leather chair. A drummer space nerd. If that wasn’t fate painfully poking at his wounds, that had to be the cruelest joke the universe could ever had in storage for him. Watching her speak so fondly about one of Brian’s passions felt like pure torture for him as guilt ate him from inside out. When he dared to look at the guitarist and he could practically see his eyes shining with admiration, he seriously considered clawing his own heart out of his chest on the spot.

“I think you and Brian will have a lot to talk about if all goes well, darling.” Freddie cheekily commented as he also spotted their friend’s impressed expression before continuing with a more serious tone. “Why Queen, though? Are you sure that you want to spend six months of your year running from one stage to the other?”

“I am. This is something I really want to do. It is one of my goals, for personal reasons. Queen has always been one of my favorite bands and making wonderful music sounds like a pretty good way to spend my time.” Ms. Meyer spoke carefully as she sat herself straighter and humbling looked at them before continuing. “I’d love a chance to play with you all even if only for an audition.”

Brian tenderly stared at the girl and he felt rather fond of the way a lovely shade of pink tinted her cheeks. To be honest, she reminded him a lot of Roger all those years ago when he would bat his eyelashes and coyly look at him with unfairly blue eyes to get his way around. She looked calmer and much better well collected than the drummer had ever been, though. However, if he squinted, he could see the same fiery spark in her eyes as well.

“It would be our pleasure to play with you, Ms. Meyer.” He stated and hoped his words sounded as truthful as he had meant them to be.

“Please, call me Ann. ‘Ms. Meyer’ sounds awfully like my mum.” She requested with a small voice and, from the corner of his eye, Brian could see John gently smiling at her as well.

“Tell you what, darling.” Freddie spoke excitedly and clapped his hands with determination. “Why don’t you play the drums for a bit just to get rid of the edge of your nerves and then we can see how well you’ll fit with us. I’m sure Rog here won’t mind it.”

The girl gulped as she warily glanced at Roger’s direction, silently asking for his approval to even dare to touch his drums and he felt the knot in his stomach twitching under her gaze. He, honestly, didn’t know if watching her play _his_ instrument would be a indulging blessing or a taunting curse. One way or another, he forced himself to encouragingly nod to the young lady and she smiled shakily at him.

He observed as she carefully made her way to the set and he could swear that he saw the moment confidence settled in her eyes once she held the sticks. She looked completely in her element and he found himself instantly forgiving her audacity of checking the rods to make sure his bloody drums were on tune. To his side, he could almost feel the expectation thick in the air coming from his friends and he realized that his own heart was rapidly beating against his chest.

When she started playing, though, it became clear that she had been right on choosing to be a percussionist. She had picked one of Queen’s earlier songs and the drummer watched with pure musical delight as she nailed every part of it. Her beats were artfully measured and the tempo was absolutely on point. Yet, it was undeniable how naturally she moved and how the music seemed to just flow from her. She had finesse and passion at the same time, which made for the display of a very polished skill.

From his place on the sofa, Freddie could do little but gape at her. Not because of her musical abilities, though. Yes, they were phenomenal. But her body language and the sheer euphoric concentration behind her electrifying blue eyes had eerily looked so much like the other drummer’s that the singer felt like he was staring right into a time machine. He had no idea if being a fierce skinny blonde was a requirement to play drums, but it sure as death felt like it.

Right by his side, John observed with total amazement at that odd, yet extraordinary, occurrence as he was engulfed by the same weird sensation he was sure his husband was experiencing as well. It was like seeing Rufus playing for the first time, but better. For, as handsome as he looked, the boy never quite had the same soft and delicate edge on his features that his father had been famous for. However, there was something else about her. Something he couldn’t quite place his finger on.

As for Brian, he looked completely astonished. He kept switching his gaze between the young lady giving a wonderful performance in front of them to the impressed drummer proudly looking at her. The way she _moved_ or simply threw back her head to get her bangs out of her eyes were so bloody similar to Roger’s that, for a second, he thought that he might be seeing things. However, the shocked expressions on his friends’ faces confirmed that it was all very much real. That, or they all were suffering from a collective hallucination.

By the time she finished, Roger couldn’t decide if he wanted to keep staring only to have his haunted mind torturing him later or if he would rather just run away to get some fresh air. Or maybe something much stronger. That small glimpse of what could have been if he had just been a bit more selfish all those years ago had been enough to shred his hearts to pieces for the day.

“That was absolutely superb, darling.” Freddie was the first to speak. “I can’t wait to see what you can do with a guitar.”

The young drummer fully blushed at his words and delicately placed the drumsticks right where she had found them, looking much less nervous than what she had been a few minutes earlier. “Thank you, Mr. Mercury. I feel a bit less anxious now.”

“What did I tell you about formalities, darling?” He reminded her with a charming smirk and a playful tone before he addressed the others. “Shall we play, gentlemen?”

That seemed to spurt them into action and, before Roger realized, his bandmates were already moving towards their instruments and the young lady was stepping out of the wooden platform. With mechanical motions and a small sigh, the drummer lifted himself from the chair and started heading to the previously occupied bench behind his drums. While he settled, he could hear Brian giving the girl instructions on what she should do as he passed to her a spare guitar.

They had decided to ask the applicants not to bring their own instruments, since a considerable part of their guitar sounds came from the Red Special and not everybody had a _Brian_ _May_ just lying around. The band already was having a hard time with the styles of the people who had showed up, as they didn’t merge too well with their own. They very much could do without a discrepancy in guitars as well. Even if not perceptible to everyone, the sounds varied quite a lot from one model to the other.

Normally, it took Brian a good few minutes to get the auditioning guitarists a bit more familiarized with the model and go through its special features. In fact, Roger was fully ready to start scrolling through a few apps on his phone or engaging in some small talk with Freddie and John just to wait for the boring process, but, it turned out, that hadn’t been necessary at all.

With a lovely shade of pink spreading on her skin, the girl, Ann, confessed that she had one of those back at home, as it had been a gift from her mother and one of her first guitars ever. At that, Brian practically beamed upon hearing such pleasant news and Roger honestly thought he would have hugged her if her cheeks weren’t already so red. From his place, he could see Freddie looking at their friend with an endearing expression and John observing it all with a pensive face.

There was something about the young musician, that he couldn’t quite figure out yet, that had been bothering the bassist since the minute she had walked into the room. At a first glance, she had reminded him of Roger to a great extent. Then, as she started playing the drums with so much fire on her soul, the resemblance had felt almost scary. Had he been on his friend’s place, he surely would be giving his old flings a call or two just to make sure he hadn’t passed all these years unaware of his unplanned offspring.

Yet, something wasn’t quite right. Because, as much as she eerily looked like Roger or appeared to be a force of nature with a drumstick, he couldn’t help himself but feel like she seemed much more familiar for entirely different reasons. Perhaps, it was the calm and composed manner in which she talked, or the way her legs gave the impression of going on for miles, or even the promise of the loose bum on her head coming off to reveal bouncing curls. _Something_ was making his brain run wild trying to make associations.

It wasn’t until they had actually started playing, though, that the pieces of that intriguing puzzled clicked into place. Honestly, had he not been a well-seasoned musician already calloused from the countless shenanigans his friends had pulled on the stage throughout the years, he might have entirely screwed up his notes as he watched what could only be described as the freakiest experience of his whole life. That coming from the person married to Freddie Mercury, professional bold-endeavors seeker and part time troublemaker of titanic proportions.

Ann Meyer had been purposefully cloned out of a sample from their guitarist and it would take a lot of work from his barely working sensible brain cells to convince him he was wrong about that. From the bending of her knees, the perfectionist look on her face, the careful way in which she ran her fingers through the chords and many other haunting details, watching her play a guitar was like looking through a slightly dystopic mirror that distorted reality just enough to make one question their beliefs.

Naturally, she still had years ahead of her to gradually develop her skill to its full potential and to reach the legendary level of Brian May. Yet, the similarities were undeniable and John very much felt like he was staring through a wormhole into space and time back to their early years. Good Lord. And he surely wasn’t the only one to share that opinion, since Freddie, even if his voice didn’t flicker for a second, had his brows highly arched in astonishment and the bassist could tell that his husband was going through the same odd experience as him. Poor Roger even looked like he might fall from his bench as his bright blue eyes gaped at the oblivious duo.

When they wordlessly moved to the part where she would have to step in at any time Brian suddenly stopped his guitar, their resemblance, as much in looks as in body language, became even more perceptible. With her wild curls coming lose and cascading right past her shoulders and the smooth transition between both instruments, Ann Meyer looked like an extraordinarily convincing gender bent version of their friend. While her golden locks and baby blue eyes might have fooled a casual looker, they had been already too familiar with each other to let a simple detail like that prevent them from seeing past it.

By the time they finished trying a couple more songs with only a few comments between themselves regarding the pace and what could be more challenging for the girl, John felt certain enough that their open position had been efficiently filled. It had taken a great amount of straining hours, a small torture session for his earbuds and probably the soul that had been surely traded for them to be graced with that off color carbon copy of their guitarist. But they had done it.

He only could hope his friends shared the same opinion. Because they would have to be pretty insane to let her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my Ann, guys! Slowly, we will see more about her and her backstory as well as the facts that led the boys until here. 
> 
> She is incredibly special to me. Even before I started the other work, this young lady has always been present in my mind and I’m super happy for finally giving her a chance to shine. I hope you liked her so far. <3
> 
> Next chapter, we will see the band discussing about her performance and we’ll get a few glimpses on how Brian feels about Roger. It’s a gradual process. ^^”
> 
> Thank you sooooooooooo much for reading!! Your comments and kudos put me in cloud nine all day!! I absolutely love answering your questions, so, please, feel free to ask as many as you’d like. *-*
> 
> Lots of love!!  
> Xx


	3. Chapter III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band discusses Ann’s audition. Freddie and John are amazed at the girl’s uncanny resemblance to their bandmates while Roger struggles a bit with his feelings and Brian ponders about his odd reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys!! Here is the third chapter! Once more, I find myself with many more words than what I thought I would have for a piece of plot. I have no idea how this happens. O.
> 
> Thank you so much for the support and motivation!! I’m really insecure about this story and your feedback is very precious to me. Also, to my dear @marveltrwsh, many thanks for your help and patience, sis. <3
> 
> No major warnings apply to this chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

Casually moving in order not to startle the happily chatting duo of guitarists, John walked a few steps into Freddie’s direction and gently wrapped an arm around his waist as he moved the bass out of the way.

“Tell me we get to keep this one, please.” He spoke lowly, only for his husband’s ears, and the singer looked fondly at him.

Even on his early seventies, Freddie’s eyes sparkled with mischief and a teasing smirk played on his lips. In John’s versed opinion, he still looked as handsome as he had been on the first day the bassist had laid his gaze upon him. The shining strands of soft grey hair made him look rather charming and the laugh lines on his face gave him a very complimentary look. John was a very lucky man _indeed_.

“I think we do, darling. If we manage not to scare her away with our oddities, that is.” The singer replied with a teasing tone and a soft look.

A few feet to their left, Brian excitedly chatted with the blonde girl about how well she had done and the young guitarist’s eyes sparkled with admiration, as she seemed to be absorbing every single well-deserved praise and helpful tips on how to improve even more. Honestly, John thought that the duo looked like a pair of twin jars with only the years and the mismatched colors to tell them apart.

“Whichever force in the universe allowed Brian to have a clone, I’d like to have a word with it. Maybe send it a fruit basket.” He commented pensively and Freddie teasingly nudged his side for it.

The singer had to admit that a phenomenon like that only happened once in a blue moon. He could hardly believe their luck. They not only had found a skilled musician, who appeared to need only a few more rehearsals to carry on with the notes flawlessly right on cue, as they also had been blessed with countless opportunities of having some fun with that accidental similarity. Better yet, the polite and intelligent girl surely would get along wonderfully with their guitarist and Freddie already felt quite excited to learn more about her.

He knew it wasn’t a perfect situation and that some fans might not be entirely pleased with an unknown stranger sharing the stage with them. Especially the ones who loved Brian to pieces. But he was sure that the great majority would be understanding. After all, they were moving heaven and earth to make sure the guitarist would still be able to play for most of the performance instead of just calling things off.

Freddie truly understood why their friend would go through such great lengths to ensure the show would continue. Their anniversary was a truly special event. It’s not every day one gets to celebrate fifty years of making excellent music with their best friends. He, honestly, hoped that the girl, Ann, would turn out to be a great addition to their crew. She certainly had the spirit and the skill of a remarkable musician.

From his bench, Roger observed with a clenched heart how the two guitarists were lovely chatting about their instruments and further details about the tour. He couldn’t deny that Ann had been absolutely brilliant with that bloody guitar. In fact, she had looked so much like Brian that the drummer was still trying to figure out how he hadn’t screwed up his beats. He still couldn’t decide how he felt about it all either. It was a lot to take in.

On the one hand, being taunted with a sight like that, a reminder of what he had lost and would never find, had his whole body sinking in pure sadness. Roger knew his past decisions would forever haunt him and he had, somewhat, made his peace with it a long time ago. Yet, it was still incredibly painful to have glimpses of what could have been. He was entitled to feel miserable. After all, he hadn’t let go of something trivial. He had given away his most precious gift. His tiny, perfect, little miracle. Hell, he had the right to feel as desolate as he fucking wanted.

On the other hand, watching Brian having so much fun and giving such a treasured opportunity to that young lady, who truly seemed to be a very good person, made Roger feel a great amount of warmth in his chest. It was obvious that the older guitarist was absolutely delighted by her and the drummer really didn’t want to be the one to rain on his parade and vote against giving her the position. Also, there was the fact that doing it would be completely unfair to the girl. Even if she was a walking and talking reminder of his worst mistake, Ann Meyer had proved herself worth of the spot.

Of course, he couldn’t forget that, besides her, everyone they had seen so far had been an utter disaster or a massive showcase of incompetence and bad manners. If possible, he would very much like to skip going through all of that again, since they already had a musically godsent angel to take the job. Enduring more auditions was not only pointless, but a literal act of self-volunteered torture.

Making up his mind, Roger once more carefully placed his drumsticks down and made his way to where Freddie and John were whispering between themselves. Clearing his throat a bit more loudly than necessary to draw their attention, the drummer slowly took the final steps to approach the couple. On the past, he had accidentally heard more than enough of their hushed words to make him extra cautious now. As naughty as he was, he could very much do without _those_ pictures in his mind.

“The position has been filled, right?” He asked to the duo. By the tranquil look on their faces and the fond glances they were throwing in the guitarists’ direction, Roger could tell that they all were on the same page.

“It seems like it, darling.” Freddie mused and teasingly smirked at them. “Bri looks ready to adopt the poor girl and take her home. I think we can stop the auditions.”

“Thank fuck for that.” Roger agreed with a small grunt and tried not to think too much about the first part of his comment.

“We all agree, then?” John asked, tone a bit more serious. He really had taken to himself the part of handling the more bureaucratic aspects of the band alongside with Miami. Between the two of them, they all could trust Queen to always be on the right track.

When his inquiry was met with positive nods and affirmations, the bassist made a mental note to contact the legal department to start getting ready the paperwork and everything necessary to officially hire the newest member of the crew. Also, they probably should begin scheduling rehearsals to sharpen the girl’s skill and make the transitions completely smooth. After all, that whole process of finding a guitarist was to make sure their performances wouldn’t suffer from Brian’s injury, nor that their friend would have to go through unnecessary pain. If Brian happened to find in her a science buddy as well, that was just a very welcomed plus.

“What do you think, guys?” Brian asked with a soft smile and an excited voice as he neared their group after chatting for a couple more minutes and asking Ann to sit down for an instant while they discussed her audition.

“Personally, I think you have been cloned and they gave her Roger’s eyes by mistake.” John stated as he retrieved her folded file from his back pocket to make a few more notes.

“Well, his eyes _are_ prettier. No mistakes there, then.” The guitarist chuckled and observed said eyes rolling with hidden amusement before he continued. “Do you really think she looks like me? I mean, have you _seen_ her behind those drums?”

“She is a hell of a drummer, darling, yes. But, unless Roggie here plans on splitting his hand open again, I think we’ve got that position covered.” Freddie conceded and threw a side-glance to Roger as if to warn him to be careful with his limbs. One hand down was already more than enough.

“I think she did great and deserves the spot. No matter with whom she looks like.” Roger spoke with a sharp tone, wanting nothing more than to put an end to those comparisons. He had already done enough of those for all of them.

“Are you saying you don’t think she looks scarily like Brian and you?” John wondered and looked up from his paper, as the drummer pointedly stared at anywhere but at the young lady on the sofa.

“No, I’m not. I just think we should focus on her skill. She was brilliant back there and seems to be a nice girl. That’s all.” He tried to force a nonchalant tone and discreetly slid his hand in his jacket pockets in order to conceal his clenched fists. If he could, he would have bolted out of the room for a smoke. Or an Advil, because his headache was finally making itself present.

“Well, that’s very mature of you, Rog.” Brian spoke tentatively and eyed him suspiciously. It was extremely odd of him not to notice on how a girl looked. Naturally, he had always been a perfect gentleman. However, Roger Taylor was famous for his conquests and that behavior was just very out of character for him.

Yet, Brian couldn’t deny that he felt some relief at hearing that. Not only because seeing that lovely girl from such angle made his guts twist at the wrongness of the feeling but because he absolutely hated watching the drummer parading with different ladies every now and then. He knew that he didn’t have the right and it was a constant struggle to keep those thoughts to himself, but it was stronger than him. His feelings for Roger had always been _complicated_.

Since they had met all those decades back, he had known that Roger was special to him. At first, he couldn’t quite understand _why_. The drummer was his best friend and the person he trusted most in the entire universe. He and the blond were practically joined at the hip. For, while he acted as the voice of reason and kept them safe, he could always rely on Roger to boldly bring out the best in them. Their friendship was what Brian valued the most in the whole world. Even more than the Red Special. And that said quite something.

Then, as the years passed, he couldn’t help but gradually shift the way in which he saw his blond menace of a friend until, suddenly, it had hit him how completely in love he had been with him and that sent the astrophysicist into a spiraling rollercoaster of new questions and a minor life crisis. By the time he had actually grown a pair to even address the situation, the two of them were already too involved with their own girlfriends, who later became their wives, for him to actually do something about it. There was too much at stake and he refused to be a nuisance to his friend with his unrequired feelings.

Therefore, he had buried his love deep inside of his heart and fully accepted that he and Roger would never be more than friends. Which was already way more than what he deserved. For, having the drummer in his life was much better than losing him entirely, as a result of an unwanted love confession. When a few years later he met Anita, things got much better and easier to handle, though. His wedding was suffering a great deal because of many problems and having that amazing woman appearing in his life was one of the best things that had happened to him.

They were true partners and Anita understood him in a way Chrissie never did. Naturally, his first wife would always have a spot in his heart and his eternal gratitude for presenting him with such wonderful children. However, marrying Anita was like a fresh breath of air in his life. They were friends, above everything else, and he knew he could count on her for absolutely anything. Yet, there always would be that significant part of his heart that belonged to Roger and would forever be his until the end of times.

The drummer was the love of his life. One couldn’t just erase something like that. However, Brian had made his peace with himself. They weren’t meant to be together that time around. Perhaps in another lifetime, they could have their chance. For he truly believed he and Roger were soulmates. Nothing else could explain the deep bond they had, even if his romantic feelings were safely hidden away.

However, even if Brian had moved on, it didn’t mean that it still didn’t hurt to see the drummer with a casual fling hanging on his arm more often than not. Things had been particularly difficult after Roger’s divorce, since it made the guitarist question many aspects of his life all over again. In the end, though, he had decided to do nothing.

Why bother opening up that delicate subject when he was sure that Roger didn’t correspond his feelings? There had been no need to put himself, his friends and his wife through that. No. He had lasted that long. He had refused to screw things up after so many years. Therefore, he bit his tongue and decided to bear through it. He and Anita were happy and he had his best friend by his side. He really couldn’t complain much.

For now, though, he decided not to dwell on that line of thought. He was positively ecstatic about Ann’s performance and he felt incredibly proud of how well she had done. Brian had a really good feeling about her and was more than glad that his bandmates seemed to have agreed with him. He was sure that their experience would be wonderful.

Somehow, though, he didn’t see what all that nonsense about the girl looking like him was all about. Clearly, their old age was finally catching up with them and his friends were all blind. Because every time Brian looked at Ann, he couldn’t shake the feeling of how much she reminded him of Roger. Which was, of course, absolutely ridiculous.

“She’s hired, then?” He asked tentatively and glanced at the girl sitting on the sofa, who was politely not staring at them.

“I believe it’s fair to say she earned her spot, darling.” Freddie offered decisively and gently placed his hand on John’s shoulder, who absentmindedly hummed his agreement as he scribbled on the paper.

“Finally. She’s in. I’ll tell the lad outside to inform the others that the position has been filled.” Roger announced with a heavy sigh and once again rubbed the bridge of his nose. “If you excuse me, I’ll head home before this headache fries my brain.”

“Oh! Anita and I wanted to invite you to have dinner later.” The guitarist commented with a sad tone. After all his kids had moved out, more often than not the drummer would spend his night all alone or entertaining some random lady when he could have perfectly been in their good company.

Roger considered his words for an instant but, in the end, he decided in favor of politely declining the offer with an apologetic smile and the excuse of his very real pain in order to go straight home. Not that he didn’t love having dinner with Brian and Anita. Far from that. They all always had a wonderful time and he truly appreciated their friendship. However, for that night in particular, he just wanted to be alone.

It wasn’t everyday that he was faced with someone that elicited such a strong reaction from him. It felt like opening old wounds. He would take the night to sleep it off and intently ignore the delicate wooden box hidden in the safest place from prying eyes inside of his closet. That day had been too full of emotions and painful reminders for him to be a decent company to anybody.

“Thank you, Bri. But I really just want an Advil and some rest.” He thanked, once more, the guitarist and nodded to his bandmates before he turned to grab his drumsticks to properly storage them. “Send my love to Anita, yes?”

“Will do. Call us if you change your mind, mate.” Brian replied and sent him a comforting smile as he headed in the direction of the sofa to deliver the good news to the girl.

As Roger was about to leave, John asked him for the small favor of delivering Ann’s file to the lad at the door so he could start to get things sorted out and instructed the older man to text him later if his headache got worse. At that, the drummer rolled his eyes in response to his mothering and accepted the paper. Even after so many years, the bassist never tired of putting them all under his wing. He couldn’t help himself but smile fondly at his friend’s care, though, once he turned his back.

He could still hear Freddie’s teasing and the girl’s happy laughter when he reached the door. Before he could find the guy he was supposed to give the paper to, though, his eye caught something on the top of the page that made his lungs stop working and nearly gave him a stroke. He literally could feel his heart skipping beats inside of his chest and his head was throbbing with pain as many speculations ran wild through his mind.

_Ann Harriet Meyer, 27 year old_.

It was a good thing he hadn’t known her middle name before. Because that, for certain, would have led him to a massive freak out. He knew that name. He had _chosen_ that name. That tiny piece of information, added to the new knowledge of her age, was nothing short of unsettling. Looking like him and Brian might have been a coincidence. Having the right age was certainly spooky. But carrying the name he had specially picked on what seemed to be a lifetime ago, that just couldn’t be ignored.

Forget that Advil. He needed one drink. Or a dozen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our poor Rog really is in for a rollercoaster of feelings. Next chapter we will get to see a great deal about his past and the heartbreaking decisions he had to make. 
> 
> Gradually, I’ll develop more Ann’s character and reveal pieces of their past. Bear with me a while longer. <3
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! If you can, please leave a kudo or comment. They are incredibly motivational and hearing your thoughts really helps me to know if I’m in the right direction. You have no idea how insecure I feel about this story and your feedback is really important to me. <3333
> 
> Lots of love!!  
> Xx


	4. Chapter IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger takes some time in his evening to remember some events from the past and ponder about what he should do regarding the new girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys!! I’m afraid this will be a considerably angst-y chapter. We will see how Roger dealt with one of the most difficult situations of his life and how he managed to pull that stunt.
> 
> Thank you sooooooooooooo very much for all of your support!! This plot feels like unknown waters to me and your motivation truly means a lot. Thank you. <3
> 
> @marveltrwsh, a special thanks to you for your wonderful beta work and for not slapping me not even once. <3
> 
> This chapter contains some considerations regarding abortion and there is a huge amount of angst in it. Please, be careful if that bothers you. Stay safe. <3
> 
> Enjoy!!

Roger wasn’t quite sure of what to do with his recently acquired information about the young girl who had appeared so unexpectedly in his life. Her application file hadn’t been much more helpful other than supplying her contact information and an address.

There wasn’t a lot he could do with those, though. After all, it wasn’t as if he could go knocking on her front door and asking cryptic questions about her life or inquiring her about a past she couldn’t possible remember. Because even if his ridiculous speculations regarding Ann Meyer were to become true, the young girl would most certainly be the last person to know about it.

The drummer pensively stared at the amber liquid swirling in his glass as he mechanically moved his wrist and his mind wondered restlessly. On his lap, the screen of his phone was starting to darken again, the picture of her file gradually fading as the seconds passed. Roger had snapped it quickly before he delivered the paper and the news to the lad in charge of organizing the selection process as he headed out of the building as fast as possible.

After racing home and carefully studying all information available from that stolen photo, he had poured himself a generous dose of his strongest whiskey and prayed to anyone listening for some peace of mind. Naturally, his pleas had fallen in deaf ears as his thoughts ran wildly inside of his head and the painful memories he had been trying to suppress all day waltzed behind his eyes. Flashes from a wonderful night and a heartbreaking morning had his heart aching and twisting, but it was the recollection of the months that followed those that had him feeling truly miserable.

He could still recall, even if not as vividly as he would have liked, the day realization of how severe the consequences of his indiscretion were. It had been only a few days since he was back home from their last tour and he was still trying to figure out why the hell the mild stomach flu that had been buggering him for the past few weeks still wasn’t gone. He, honestly, had thought that it was just the end of a demanding tour making him exhausted all the time and that all that exotic food from South America and Asia were upsetting his stomach.

However, as his normal routine at home didn’t appear to improve in the slightest his condition, in fact, it was getting worse, and he didn’t seem any closer of finding answers, he started to feel unsettled. It wasn’t until his wife, Debbie, returned from her modeling trip with their toddler, Rufus, that the gears started to turn inside of his brain and a chilling suspicion made itself aware every time he looked at the tiny blond boy.

Roger had _known_ he was male carrier for a couple of years by then. After Brian’s hepatitis scare, it had become common that the four members of Queen were fully examined by a competent team of doctors at least once every couple of years. The drummer always had felt quite annoyed by it, but the insurance company had demanded it and refused to budge on that clause. Naturally, as they began to age, a few more exams were included in the package.

With the awkward prostate exam that he had received as a downside of turning forty, came the most uncomfortable conversation he ever had in his life with a health professional, informing him of his status. However, the doctor had affirmed to him that if he weren’t having a regular male partner and weren’t actively trying to conceive a baby, the chances of him getting pregnant were close to zero. Especially considering his advanced age and how difficult male pregnancies were in general.

As he had found himself, three years later, frighteningly staring at a positive test that he had shakily taken just to put his mind at rest, though, he very much felt like hunting that doctor down to demand clarifications or punch a hole in his face. He couldn’t quite decide which one, as he had been busy having the biggest freak out of his entire life. It sufficed to say that not a single object of that restroom had been spared by the end of his nervous breakdown.

Never in his life had Roger felt so lost and alone. The week following that discovery was, to this day, still a huge blur of events that he couldn’t recall for the life of him. Yet, he remembered almost completely the psychological struggle he suffered those days as the lives as they knew it of his family and friends weighted on his hands and he was aware that he had to make a decision. However, it was an impossible situation and heavens knew he was, by far, the least recommended member of their group to be in charge of something like that. How on earth could he possibly have chosen between running their lives or putting an end to something so precious?

On the one hand, he had the very realistic scenario of completely destroying his marriage and putting his baby boy and his children through a very tough situation as well as absolutely wrecking Brian’s relationship with Anita over a mistake the guitarist didn’t even _remember_ making. Not to mention, of course, the field day the press would have with that scandal and Queen was doomed to suffer from it.

On the other hand, he had a tiny life that depended solely on him to continue existing and growing strong. His own personal miracle and, most certainly, his only opportunity ever of going through that experience. Not that he was looking forward to the unavoidable downsides pregnancy would bring if he were to carry on with it. He already had been a close watcher of the process enough times to know it wouldn’t be entirely pleasant. But how could he not be happy about? He was carrying _Brian’s_ _baby_.

Just the thought of it had him giggling silly out of joy. The universe had granted him the most precious gift. He had inside of him the most special thing he and Brian could ever have made together. He absolutely couldn’t, for the heart of him, bring himself to terminate his pregnancy not even if it was the most sensible things to do. Hell, he had considered it and even bloody researched about it. However, the mere notion of seeing it through had left him feeling so devastated that he _knew_ he wouldn’t be able to make that call.  So, he ran.

Roger recalled waiting long enough to be present at Rufus first birthday in the beginning of March, having already had confirmed with a doctor that he had been, indeed, around seven weeks pregnant. From then on, he spent the rest of the month pulling every possible string and calling upon many favors to ensure that he would vanish from the map and the public eye for the rest of his pregnancy.

Convincing his wife that he needed a few months alone to work on a special project with no distractions interfering had been an arduous process and he had found himself still making up to her even nearly a decade after it all had happened. However, it had been nothing compared to the reaction of his bandmates, who, quite literally, had pressed him against the wall demanding some answers. Yet, he had kept his lips sealed and promised it wouldn’t take too long, even knowing that if all went well, he wouldn’t be able to come home until the end of October.

With a heavy heart and the most vicious feeling of shame eating his insides, he had jumped into a plane to Switzerland and resignedly moved into the small flat that would be his sanctuary for his time in the country. Only a competent obstetrician, tied by a non-disclosure agreement to back up his doctor-patient confidentiality, and a trusted old friend, Carol Davis, that also lived there, had known where to find him. Naturally, he had called often to reassure everyone he was still alive and to mediocrely appease his wife. But, other than that, he had remained dutifully hidden and even managed to, somehow, come up with enough material for a solo album to be recorded whenever possible.

Putting his phone aside, the old drummer took a big gulp of his drink and tightly shut his eyes as if it would help to keep the painful memories at bay. The burning sensation on his throat distracted him for a minute and it wasn’t until he found himself staring at the light shining though the glass that he realized his free hand had familiarly found its way to sadly rest on his belly. That small action had become so natural to him while he had been pregnant that the habit got somewhat stuck to him.

He wasn’t crying. Not yet. He had done enough of that for the past decades and certainly had almost dehydrated himself from it when the time to part ways with his baby finally came. It had absolutely _killed_ him. But what else could he have done? His hands were tied.  Roger knew he would never be able to come home with Brian’s baby in his arms and _not_ tell the guitarist everything about her. He might have a strong will, but he wasn’t made of iron. Not to mention, his friend would positively murder him for pulling that stunt behind his back. Either because he had given birth all by himself, or due to the fact that their little girl would most certainly ruin his life.

His solution hadn’t been the best one and he recognizes that. However, he had been _desperate_. It had been already a massive risk to have the baby in the first place. Dangers of the pregnancy aside, the whole situation was probably the most insane plan he had ever come up with. But his tiny girl deserved a chance to live, even if away from him, and he couldn’t deny her that.

The second he held her for the first time, he had never wanted to let her go. She was _perfect_. With her light blonde hair, shinning blue eyes and delicate fingers that he just knew they would be long like her father’s, she was the most precious angel he had ever seen. God, he loved his children, but having actively carried that little one had touched him in a different way. And she was _Brian’s_. He could never forget that.

He stayed with her for a week, drinking in every single tiny detail about his little girl and holding her close to his chest for as long possible until he got permission to leave the hospital and the adoption process was finalized. Roger had insisted on not knowing personally the couple who would be her new parents, or the temptation to find her later would be too irresistible for him. However, he had his trusted friend, Carol, thoroughly investigating and befriending them until she had reassured him a thousand times that they were the right people to have his daughter.

Carol Davis had surely been invaluable for his mad plan to actually work. The old lawyer had taken care of all the details concerning the adoption. She was also in charge of the anonymous trust fund Roger had ensured his baby girl would have full access to when she became of age, and that her parents would be allowed to withdraw from it proportional amounts every month as a way to ensure she never would be in need of anything.

The drummer had meant no offense by doing it. He just couldn’t sleep knowing his legitimate children would be granted with a more than comfortable life while his precious little girl wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy the perks of being the daughter of a famous rockstar. He had the means and was hell bent on giving her the same amount of money his children monthly received in their funds, even if she never got to know where it was coming from. Which he dutifully did until today and would continue to do so.

He had cried himself for _days_ after he shakily gave her to Carol with his heart breaking with so much pain that he thought he might actually die from it. Roger sent his most precious gift away with a loving kiss on her forehead, whispered pleas for forgiveness, a starry blanket with real constellations that Brian would have had a meltdown if he had seen it, a box full of original songs specially made for her and all the love of his heart. The feeling of her tiny wrapped form leaving his arms and the sensation of her death grip on his finger being pulled away still haunted him every single day.

By the time he actually went back home to England, he felt completely hollow inside. It must have shown on his face how miserable he had been feeling, for his wife held back her scolding for several days and his friends tried to cheer him up in every possible way. He knew that he had to move on with his life, but the last thing he had wanted was to face Brian. For he probably would have ended up letting out all the tears he had been bottling up or he would scream at the unware guitarist at the top of his lungs for putting him in that situation. Most likely both options all at once.

What he did do, though, was spend as much time as possible with his baby boy, who already looked so big since the last time Roger had actually seen him, instead of just talking through the phone. The drummer was quite certain that the first thing he did once he set foot in his house was grab the blond toddler and hold him tightly in his arms as he placed a hundred kisses on his golden locks. His heart heavy with guilty as he had seemed to turn abandoning his kids into an Olympic sport.

Things, eventually, got back on track. After an insane amount of talking and apologizing, he managed to go back to his wife’s good graces and he moved heaven and earth to make her happy. The boys fully celebrated his return after an epic rant from Freddie, a cautious conversation with Brian to catch up on what he had missed and the deepest talk he had ever had with Deaky, who probed him from every possible angle and didn’t rest until he realized no further explanation would come from the drummer.

Still, though, Roger always made sure to be extra careful with his behavior around the bassist for, at least, a year. Heavens knew his funky friend could be scarily perceptive and he very much could do without his secret coming out like that. Even if he knew that John would never say a word without his permission, it wasn’t fair to put him in that position. No. It had been _his_ choice and that would be _his_ burden to carry.

Heavily sighing, Roger ran his hand through his white hair and tiredly rubbed his eyes before he once more picked up his phone to stare at Ann Harriet Meyer’s file. At that point, every letter of her name had been already ingrained in his brain to the point of no return. Yet, her middle name stared back at him from the other side of the screen, taunting his brain and mocking his hopes. For, when he had told Carol, with a trembling voice that her name was _Harriet_ , he couldn’t possibly have guessed if she would rely that information to the couple adopting her or not.

He had chosen it, mostly, because of Brian and his dad. The guitarist always had wanted to have a child named after the man he admired so much, but he had never quite managed it. How Roger’s brain had memorized that information back from the time they were still in Smile, was a goddamn mystery to him. But once the thought made it to the front of his mind, he just couldn’t let go of it.

Harold May had always been incredibly kind towards him and more of a father than his own would ever be. Brian’s dad had kindly accepted him in his family and Ruth, his wife, was another sweetheart who had swept the drummer right into her heart. Old Harry certainly was very dear to him and when Roger had learned he was having a little girl, the name had just popped into his brain and he immediately fell in love with it.

What were the odds, though, that almost thirty years later, the universe would allow his precious little girl to be returned to his life just like that, by walking through the door and playing their music as if she had been _born_ to do it? The whole idea was _preposterous_. He was clearly going senile in his old age if his brain was coming up with ridiculous theories like that.

However, there was a tiny spark of hope growing in his heart with each passing second. Ann _could_ be his daughter. Naturally, he virtually knew nothing regarding the private life of the young guitarist. It could be all just a painful coincidence fueled by the regrets of an old man. Also, if she was, _indeed_ , his little girl, what the flying fuck would he do about it? Because he didn’t have a single clue.

There were so many things to consider. If Ann was his daughter, perhaps she didn’t even know she had been adopted and it was absolutely not his place to deliver those news. And if she _did_ know, that didn’t mean for a second that she would want to meet her original parents. Hell, she could very well hate his guts for all he knew. Nothing was certain and Roger, honestly, didn’t know what scared him the most. If it was the heartbreak of confirming that she was _not_ his or being faced with the astonishing news that she _was_.

His head throbbed in pain and, with a grunt, he tiredly blocked the screen of his phone and harshly gulped down the remains of his whiskey. At that point, he had lost count of how many glasses he had drank. Perhaps, taking the Advil and going to sleep might had been a smarter choice. But he cared very little about that. His hangover would at least put him down for a mercilessly dreamless state. Whatever break he could get from his haunting thoughts, he would take it.

Heading to his room, Roger tried to assemble a mental note of the things he was sure of in the hopes of getting some enlightenment, but he ended up with a very short list that didn’t even include the location of his damn glasses. He had to do _something_. He needed answers, even if it only had the sole purpose of putting his mind to rest. But he had time to figure things out. After all, Ann would be joining them for the tour and he would have enough opportunities to learn more about her.

Also, even if they weren’t related at all, she seemed like a good person and a delightful company. He genuinely believed that liking her had nothing to do with his insane theories and he was more than willing to make a new friend. Even if one that painfully reminded him of his worst mistake. For he refused to punish that girl and make the whole experience uncomfortable for her because of his past bad choices. He was a gentleman, after all. A naughty one, but one nevertheless.

He could do it. He could get to the end of that mystery. Whatever the future held in storage for him, or whichever tricks the universe had up its sleeve, he would face them with a raised head, clenched fists and strong resolve. He was Roger Meddows Taylor, Rock Legend, Honorary Doctor of Music, Infamous Prankster, and General Badass in Multiple Categories. He could do _anything_. Just watch him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our poor Rog… Let’s see how things will unfold for him. In the future, as the story progresses, I reveal more details of what exactly happened between him and Brian. No worries!! 
> 
> For the next chapter, you can expect a massive dose of Deacury!! John is absolutely precious and writing from his perspective was, as always, a pleasure! Let’s take a closer look at how they fit in this AU. I’m kind of building its pillars before I can actually move on with the plot on the following chapter. I hope it works. 
> 
> I’ll be travelling this week to see my family, so I won’t have time to write at all. But I promise I’ll update this story as soon as I’m back. <3
> 
> Thank you for reading!! You guys are incredible!! Truly, thank you so much for your motivating words!! Your comments and kudos put me in cloud nine all day! *-*
> 
> Lots of love!!  
> Xx


	5. Chapter V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Freddie have a quiet moment in the late hours of the night and the bassist worries about their massive tour and new additions to the band.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I’m so sorry about the wait!! Here is chapter five with lots of Deacury as promised!!
> 
> Thank you so much for the support and understanding!! You guys are extraordinary!!
> 
> My dear @marveltrwsh, I already miss you like crazy. Thank you for your wonderful work and healing hugs, sis!! <3
> 
> No major warnings apply to this chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

John tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed softly as he read yet another email concerning their tour. It was a lot of work to keep an eye in everything, but he insisted on being forwarded every relevant email regarding Queen. With a band as successful as theirs, it made him feel much more at ease if he knew what was going on behind the stage as well.

Their new tour had been, from the very beginning, one of the most daring endeavors Queen had ever attempted. The scale of it alone could be held responsible for, at least, the new dozen of white strands decorating his hair. The amount of bureaucracy involved into getting their crew and equipment into such a myriad of different countries had Miami making so many phone calls and texting John so frequently that the bassist now even _dreamed_ about their manager settling deals and scratching his baldhead as he ranted with whomever was on the other side of the call.

John knew that he didn’t _have_ to worry about such details. As his husband had wonderfully put, he should only be concentrating on taking his _pretty_ _ass_ to the stage and playing the hell out of his bass for their fans. As tempting as it sounded, though, he actually enjoyed having something else occupying his mind. The bassist liked to keep his brain sharp and, as much as he loved playing music, the performances and video shoots were never his cup of tea. His position as honorary sub-manager helped to keep him _sane_.

Also, it gave him the much-needed advantage of knowing when one of their insane plans wouldn’t work right up front and the sheer satisfaction of having Miami backing him up whenever he stated that their ideas weren’t doable. Heavens knew that between Freddie and Roger’s bold personalities, their loyal manager already had a tough time keeping their feet on the ground. Whatever aid he could provide in that department was more than welcome.

Their 50th Anniversary Tour had started as a small event and, to this day, John still had no idea on how on God’s green Earth the thing had reached such proportions. Perhaps it had something to do with Freddie’s burning desire for a big celebration or Roger’s daring determination to go big or go home. But, the bassist was sure that Brian’s heartfelt and emotive speech about the importance of doing something special for such mark had been essential to kick-start the little monster they had created.

To be honest, even if he wasn’t quite fond of touring himself, John couldn’t deny that he wanted to give the band its deserving recognition for such a special moment. The fact that they have managed to stay together and still producing high quality music was quite an achievement and the bassist felt incredibly proud for it. More than that, they had built their own _family_.

Their friendship was something unique and precious for him. Never he wanted to take it for granted and if they had the chance of commemorating in style the fact that they have been putting up with each other’s antics for five _decades_ , then they really should go for it. It’s not every day one gets the chance of showing off their badge of honor for surviving Roger’s tantrums, Freddie’s theatrics and Brian’s nerdiness. God, forget the tour, he deserved a bloody award.

“You look adorable when you make this face, darling.” Freddie’s teasing voice pulled him out of his thoughts and the bassist glanced to his right to find his husband sweetly smirking at him.

“What face, dear?” John asked as he frowned.

“Like you don’t know if you want to strangle Miami’s minions with your bare hands or if you just need some tea.” The singer spoke playfully, his moustache twitching with his suppressed laughter. He had decided to grow it back for the tour and John thought it rather suited him. The fans, for sure, would have a field day with it.

Frowning a bit more, he stared at his phone and mused about that statement. He had to admit that he had, indeed, considered at least sending a very sharp reply to the fella who had emailed him last. Most of their employees were fairly competent at their jobs, but, once in a while, they would come across someone not exactly qualified. Answering those emails with calm responses was a skill he had developed through the years, though. It came with the job. Also, he wouldn’t mind some tea.

“How did you know?” He asked with a chuckle and pushed back his reading glasses to the right place.

“I’m your husband, darling. I know everything.” Freddie stated matter-of-factly and leaned a bit to place a soft kiss on his forehead. “I’m going to make us a cuppa, yes? If I wake Mrs. Thompson now for tea, that old rag will feed us leaves for weeks.”

John let out a hearty laughter at that and offered his husband a thankful look before he left the room with a wink and a blown kiss. Heavens knew that Freddie and their cook, who had been in charge of managing their household for years now, always bickered about proper nutrition and rabbit food. He was incredibly thankful for having the kind lady in their lives, though. She kept the singer right on his toes and always sided with John no matter what. Bless her.

However, what truly had him so easily smiling was the endearing picture of his husband in the middle of the kitchen, wearing his silky pajamas and fluffy slippers, probably humming any song that had caught his attention and dancing to it as he prepared something as simple as tea. After so many years, it never failed to amaze John how lucky he had been for finding the love of his life _twice_.

Loosing Veronica certainly had _killed_ him inside. She was his first real love, the mother of his children, his best friend and partner in crime. They had shared so many wonderful, blessed, years together, that the prospect of carrying on without her just hadn’t made sense to him. Never in his life had he felt more lost or completely empty as he did after her passing. He truly had believed that he would continue living only as a shadow of the man he used to be.

All his friends and family were incredibly helpful and caring during such a difficult time. Yet, Freddie was the one who had been there for him the most. Their friendship had always been something precious for John and he, more than willingly, trusted the singer to mend him back together. When their closeness, as the years passed, started to awake feelings that had always been dormant, though, it caught both of them by surprise.

Naturally, it took a long time for John to process everything and fully understand his emotions. He had refused to be the type of person who confused things and he wanted to be _sure,_ before he fully allowed his heart to love Freddie, as he had wanted to. When they finally decided to give a chance for their romance to flourish, both had been delighted with how smoothly they had clicked together in that aspect as well. Being in love with Freddie was as easy as breathing and the bassist had felt thankful every single day for having found in him the missing part of his heart.

A familiar beeping sound brought his attention to his husband’s phone lying on top of their covers and the bassist rolled his eyes at it. He would have recognized that Instagram alert anywhere, as it seemed to follow Freddie constantly through the day and night, unless the phone was put on silent mode. The singer absolutely _loved_ the app and spent so many time on it that, between him and Brian, Queen had a ridiculous amount of backstage pictures circling in the internet.

John would be caught dead before he voluntarily initiated a selfie, but God help him, he had actually learned which one was his good side and his husband at least had the decency of aiming for it every time he took surprising pictures of him. Which happened scarily often. Why on Earth the internet people cared so much about him reading a book or playing with a cat was a mystery to him. He tended to keep away from it and relied solely on Freddie to keep him up to date with what people were talking about. Like the multiple times the singer passed on the message of fans calling him a _snack_ , even on his sixties. Whatever the hell that meant.

Deciding to call it a night and not look at any work related emails until the next morning, the bassist carefully slipped his glasses off and grabbed the soft robe laying on the nearest chair. Even if his flannel pajama was unarguably warmer than Freddie’s silky one, he usually got way colder than the singer and needed the extra layer if he intended to walk around their house already so late.

As he had expected, Freddie was happily singing a catchy song they had heard on the radio a couple of days ago as he absentmindedly swayed his silk cladded hips to the sound of it. He was just pouring the milk on their cups when he spotted the bassist amusedly smirking from the entrance. For a second, he stopped singing altogether, then, as if to purposefully make John laugh, he went back to it with added enthusiasm and a theatrical flip of imaginary hair just like the original singer had done on the video. As Freddie always said to back up his shenanigans, if it works, it’s not silly at all.

Chuckling, John moved to sit on the stool right in front of him on the other side of the counter and observed with fondness as his husband prepared his tea just the way he liked it. After such a long time together, not only as a couple, those small details never failed to make the bassist feel the warmest feeling enveloping his heart.

“Here you go, darling.” He sweetly offered and moved to sit right next to him, taking his sweet time to place a small peck on his lips before he comfortably rested his head on one hand and grabbed the cup with the other. “I take that the minion will live?”

“Thank you, dear. And the minion will be fine. For now.” He replied as he carefully sipped on the hot beverage. Let Miami be the one to deal with that problem. He had other things to take care of.

For a moment, they enjoyed the peaceful silence between them, both savoring their teas and slightly lost in thought. John hadn’t even realized he had let his free hand gently rest on Freddie’s thigh out of habit until the singer softly squeezed his fingers and brought them to his lips for a tender kiss on each digit.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked with a caring tone, his dark eyes shining with concern under the mellow light of their kitchen. “Something is bothering you, darling.”

John smiled softly at him and gently curled his fingers around his husband’s palm to link their hands in a familiar gesture. He thought for an instant, eyes fixed on the random pattern of the marble countertop, before he looked up and spoke pensively. “Do you think she will be okay? Ann? All eyes will be on her. Judging her.”

“You are already mothering her too, aren’t you?” Freddie chuckled and lightly squeezed his hand in reassurance. “She will be fine, darling. Brian was talking with her earlier about this. I think that, as long as we make her feel welcomed, most of the fans will do so.”

“You mean not hiding her, right? Not act as if anyone could be playing that guitar.” He pondered and squinted a bit, trying to align his thoughts. “As in, we should show the fans how much we appreciate the fact that she is there and that, without her, the whole thing would have been postponed or even cancelled.”

“Which is the truth, darling.” The singer readily agreed and paused for a second to drink a bit more of tea before he continued. “We know Brian shouldn’t be playing at all with that wrist. I’m glad he is willing to do this, but we don’t want to put him in a strenuous situation.”

“Do you think she can handle the press? They can be quite… _vicious_.” John commented with an apprehensive tone. He didn’t know much about the girl, but he truly hoped she could hold her own. She seemed so calm and easygoing. That would have worried even more the bassist, if it weren’t for the fierce spark burning behind her blue eyes.

“She sends crazy science stuff to space and brilliantly plays _two_ very different instruments. I think she can do anything.” Freddie pondered and held tighter to his hand as brown eyes sparkled with determination. “But, I’ll bitch slap the critics myself if they dare to say something. That girl is a fucking treasure.”

John shook his head at that, and hummed his agreement, a small smile playing on his lips as he finished his tea. That young lady had seemed quite extraordinary, indeed. There was also the fact that she looked so much like their friends that he was still trying to wrap his mind around that odd occurrence. After all, it would have been one thing to vaguely remind them of Brian or casually be similar to Roger. However, to appear so strongly as God’s perfect little mixture of them both, that was just downright disconcerting.

Also, Roger’s behavior hadn’t helped much. John couldn’t quite tell what had been wrong with him, but he certainly was going through something that afternoon. The bassist had always worried about their menace of a friend. Throughout the years, something always made John fret about him for different reasons. His marriages, his drinking habits, his loneliness, his fairly well hidden crush on Brian that he wasn’t entirely sure if it had passed, that time in 1992 when the drummer went completely AWOL on them only to come back more miserable than ever, his obsession with cars, his gift for losing his glasses… The list was extensive.

The point was, be it a minor problem or a major concern, John always tried to keep an eye on their drummer as often as possible. Sometimes, if he was lucky and happened to catch him in a good mood, Roger would open up about most things. Other times, he would close himself so tightly that, if the bassist insisted on the topic, he usually ended up being told with precise words exactly where he could stick it. That last one he tried to avoid. Even if the drummer’s creativity frequently seemed to flare on those moments and, when John later repeated them to his husband, the singer never failed to have a laughing fit.

This tour would surely be quite interesting if they were to attempt making Ann feel more included as well as getting to know her. Perhaps he should call one of their kids to get some tips on how to befriend people her age. In fact, he was fairly certain that Rufus would be of invaluable help with that. Blond Menace Jr. would be joining them for the tour as a secondary drummer and John was certain that he would, most likely, get along just fine with their new back up guitarist.

Naturally, the bassist would also try his best to figure out what had been bothering Roger lately. With some luck, he would end up being threatened with only one drumstick instead of two. However, he had to do _something_. Clearly, his friend was going through a tough time and he would not rest until he got to the bottom of it. That’s what family did.

“Let’s get you to bed, darling, before that overthinking brain of yours explode.” Freddie nudged him softly and languidly moved on to the sink for a quick wash of the cups.

John sighed and tiredly got up, taking a moment to stretch his legs a bit before he walked a few steps to stand behind him and wrap his arms around his waist. “ _My_ overthinking brain, hmm? May I remind you that you _talk_ in your sleep about song lyrics?”

Freddie chuckled in his hold and slowly turned around to embrace him back, after quickly drying his hands on the nearby towel. His eyes, beautifully surrounded by lovely laughter marks, were shinning with fondness and John felt his heart melting a little bit. No matter his age, Freddie Mercury always had the power of looking incredibly charming and loving towards him.

“I can’t help it, darling.” He spoke brightly and pressed a gentle peck to his lips before he teasingly pinched his side. “However, next time I tell Brian that I can write better lyrics than him in my _sleep_ , do back me up.”

“Those lyrics weren’t that bad, dear.” John said diplomatically and tried to hide his smirk as he recalled the band discussion they had not a week ago.

“It was an _atrocity_.” Freddie dramatically gasped and started to lead them back to their bedroom, mindlessly turning off the lamps as they went.

“We have written worse.” John offered with a small shrug as pictures of cars, cheese and cats oddly danced through his mind.

“Calumnies, darling.” Came the short reply as they reached their room and the bassist rolled his eyes once more.

As they tucked themselves between their soft blankets, John could hear his husband putting his phone in silence mode and he could feel at least two fur balls between their legs. Perks of being married to Freddie included lovely teas at midnight, the best cuddles of the universe and a minimum of a couple of cats in every room of their house at any given time. He couldn’t even remember anymore how it felt to sleep without a purring machine beneath the covers and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to.

When gentle arms pulled him to their hold, John very much identified with one of their cats and almost purred himself in contentment. Soft whispers of loving goodnights followed and the bassist sweetly replied to them as he snuggled closer to his sweet husband. Sleep was coming fast to him after such a tiring day and he was more than happy to put his worries away for the night to embrace it. Between Freddie, their friends, the new girl and the massive work it would take to get their show on the road, he had a good hunch that he wouldn’t get much sleep once the tour started. God help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn’t think our Deaky would let Roger off the hook that easily, right?
> 
> This chapter was absolutely delightful to write!! Deacury is always so fun!! Somehow, writing about their relationship as they grow old together has made me really soft. *-*
> 
> For the next chapter, I can’t quite promise what’s going to happen. Because I, for once, haven’t written a thing yet. So sorry!! But I have plans on finally getting their show on the road. Let’s see how it goes. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and for your patience!! I’ll do my best to update in a few days. If you can, please leave a kudo or a comment. They are the brightest part of my day! <3
> 
> Lots of love!!  
> Xx


	6. Chapter VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger thinks about past experiences and how time passed in a blink as the band waits for the beginning of the show. With tension high in the air, a few revelations come to the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I’m so incredibly sorry for taking so long to post new chapters! Unlike my other fic, this one I post as soon as I have time to write it and my wonderful beta, @marveltrwsh, gives me the green light. I really couldn’t manage to write this one in advance. So sorry! 
> 
> Things have been… difficult here. I had some stuff happening in my life that triggered some serious reactions out of me that I really thought I had left behind at this point. Nope. I was wrong. They’re still here. But I’m doing my best to cope.
> 
> This chapter isn’t my best by far, but I didn’t want to leave you guys hanging. I promise that I’ll try not to take as long to post the next one. Sorry.
> 
> Thank you all so much for the support and for being so understanding. I truly appreciate it. <3
> 
> I don’t think warnings, per say, apply to this chapter. But it’s not an entirely happy one either. Sorry.
> 
> Enjoy! <3

The buzzing feeling dancing all over his skin right before a performance was always difficult to explain. Especially when it came to the show opening their tour. Roger couldn’t help but feel agitated and almost electric, even after so many years in a bloody rock band. He should be used to it by now. Yet, every night still was a thrilling experience.

The last few days seemed to have dragged on forever, with the hours slowly passing whenever he was alone as his anxiety threatened to drive him insane. Yet, time had slipped through his fingers in such a way that it, sometimes, felt as if he had blinked for a second and a full afternoon had went by without him noticing. The whole experience had been fairly unsettling and the drummer felt quite grateful for being on tour again.

Taking Queen out for a ride around the globe always had left Roger with mixed feelings since the beginning and even more so as the years passed. First, it had felt exciting to be part of such a unique experience, but a bit of homesickness was frequently present on his heart. Then, all of that mess with Brian had started and the drummer felt extremely guilty for leaving his wife behind while he selfishly allowed himself to indulge on Brian’s presence for so long.

Half of him couldn’t be more pleased for having the guitarist’s attention almost the entire time as his other half struggled to keep his emotions at bay and remember that they both had loving families waiting for them back home. Naturally, after _decades_ of tempting fate, _something_ was due to happen and it had been just Roger’s luck that everything went down in the worst way possible and with life changing consequences to make matters even more difficult. Going on tour was never quite the same after that.

Even if a small part of him, the one which liked to suffer the most, had still felt delighted for being so closely around Brian, Roger knew it was for the best if he kept his distance. If he called his family almost twice as much as he had on the past, no one said anything. Of course, things never stayed the same and as their private lives changed, so did the drummer’s behavior during the years. It was easier, now, to let himself enjoy Brian’s company as they toured the world. His heart was already calloused at this point and it wasn’t as if there was any perspective of change to torture it with false hope.

Yet, he couldn’t help himself but feel a bit selfish every time the guitarist locked eyes with him from across the stage or whenever he delayed going back to his hotel room to call Anita just for a few minutes longer than necessary as they basked on their performance’s afterglow. The catch was in the small details, really. They were all harmless, but Roger felt bad about how much he enjoyed them nevertheless.

This tour, obviously, wouldn’t be any different. The drummer already longed for the fun nights they would have on the road and the quiet moments he and Brian would unavoidably share. However, he could feel his own guilt eating him from the inside, more so than it normally did. Having Ann around was certainly messing with his head much more than what he had predicted. Not because of the girl herself, of course. She was a delightful company as far as he could tell. But his suspicions and his _hope_ weren’t giving him any rest.

Roger had meant to chat a bit more with her on the past week to see if he could learn more about her without prying too obviously into her life. However, the task proved itself more difficult than he had anticipated. Between Ann’s close rehearsals with Brian, in order to get her as sharp and ready as possible for their daring endeavor, John’s watchful eyes on him and his own uncertainty of how to approach the girl, he had hardly talked to her at all.

With the corner of his eyes, he observed as the two guitarists thoroughly inspected their guitars for the hundredth time before the show. It was _scary_ how much they looked like each other. If anyone cared to see past the lovely golden shade of her silky curls and the brightness of her piercing blue eyes, they would notice she had the same kind and gentle expression of Brian. Her long fingers touching so reverently her instrument was a perfect mirror of the older man sitting right next to her and her slightly pointy smile was just too similar for it to be a coincidence. It was disconcerting.

Roger was aware that he wasn’t the only one who could see the eerie resemblance. It came as no surprise to him that John had been just as curious to learn more about the girl as he was. More than once, the bassist had tried to start a line of questioning with him on the topic and attempted to pry his thoughts on it. If Roger had assumed that dodging his inquiries back in 1992 had been difficult, now the task was certainly a herculean feat. It was almost as if his friend could smell his bulshit in the air and that was certainly something he could do without.

Carefully glancing in his direction, the drummer felt somewhat relieved that John was too busy fidgeting with his own instrument to actually pay attention at how hauntingly familiar Ann Meyer looked at that particular moment. The last thing he needed was his friend putting that gifted brain of his to work right before their opening show. Or at all, to be honest. For, even if his heart ached with its need to be _right_ about her, the notion that he could be living with false hopes was enough to make his stomach twist into a painful knot.

Shaking his head to get rid of that train of thought and absentmindedly twirling his drumsticks, Roger let himself discreetly stare at the duo sitting in front of him once more. A familiar guilt started to pool inside of his chest as he watched how easily the two interacted and it wasn’t until Freddie loudly entered the room, still doing vocal acrobatics with his voice to warm it up, that he realized how tightly he had been grasping his sticks.

“Are you ready, darlings?” The singer excitedly asked as he made his way to the sofa and perched himself right next to his husband.

“Never.” John was the first to reply as he maneuvered his bass in order to give Freddie more room to sit. “Have you seen how many people are out there? I could hardly spot an empty place on the floor.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re sold out. Playing here in Vancouver has always been delightful.” Brian commented with a chuckle before he turned to the young girl by his side. “Don’t let him scare you. You’ll do great, love.”

Ann looked up to meet his gaze, her unfairly blue eyes gaping like a deer caught in a headlight as her nimble fingers gripped for dear life on the neck of her guitar. The poor thing. Roger didn’t blame her for a second for feeling so nervous. He still remembered how it had been for him to play in front of such a large number of people for the first time. In fact, he was quite nervous himself. It wasn’t every day one opened their band’s 50th Anniversary Tour. It was a privilege, but a hell of a responsibility.

“We’re going to get out there and kick some ass, as always.” He spoke confidently, in spite of his nerves, and offered a cheeky grin to his bandmates.

“Now, that’s the spirit, darling.” Freddie smirked at him before he got up with more energy than any seventy year old man had the right to have and turned to pester his husband. “Dear, I’m not sure about this outfit. Would you mind taking a look at my other option?”

At that, John curiously frowned at him and glanced at Roger for a second. If any of them should be giving fashion opinions, that certainly would be the drummer. However, he seemed to consider the request somewhat valid and followed the singer out of the room, a suspecting look on his face and not once looking back at his friends. If he had, he would have found Brian’s politely blushed cheeks and Roger’s knowing glint in his eyes as good hints of what might be expecting him on the other dressing room. After so many years, they couldn’t possibly still believe that Freddie needed him alone before a show to be looking at _clothes_.

“One would think he doesn’t know exactly what’s going to happen.” Roger mused with a chuckle as he grabbed a nearby water bottle and took a gulp. He would have much preferred some whiskey. However, that could wait until after the show.

“I don’t think he does. He might suspect it, but you know Freddie is quite unpredictable.” Brian spoke with a pensive voice and a light shake of his head, which made his silver curls bounce softly on his shoulders. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to intrude. Is John in trouble?” Ann asked with a small voice and genuine concern on her face that flushed a light pink when the two older men burst out in laughter. Well, _Roger_ did. Brian, somehow, managed to control his reaction with a bit more of success.

“No, sweetheart. He is going to be thoroughly snogged. That’s all.” The drummer spoke amusedly once he managed to breathe properly.

“ _Roger_!” Brian quickly scolded him and pointedly looked at Ann’s shocked face as if to further back up his argument. “You do not speak like that in front of this young lady. Mind your language.”

“Oh, for the love of… We are all adults here, Brian.” The drummer rolled his eyes and grumpily placed the bottle back on the coffee table. It had been a miracle that he did not spill its contents while he laughed a minute ago.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to pry.” She spoke in a mortified tone, as if her brightly colored cheeks weren’t already an indication of how much she did not need to know that piece of information.

Truly, Ann hadn’t meant at all to get those type of details about their personal lives. She had known Queen since she was a little girl, thanks to her mother’s wonderful taste in music. She held them all in a high regard and it was an unmeasurable honor to be granted an opportunity of playing with them. She totally and absolutely could do without that mental picture in her head. Especially after getting to spend some time with most of them. Naturally, she didn’t dare to call them friends yet, for there really wasn’t enough time for it. However, it was too weird to see any of them in that light. That’s was just… _no_.

The past few days had been, without a doubt, the most interesting and nerve wrecking of her life. And that’s coming from someone who had actually launched something into _space_. Yet, somehow, the perspective of joining such an incredible band, even if for a short time, was much more thrilling than her regular work. Honestly, it had always been a struggle for her to pick between music and the stars. Both were two big of an influence in who she was. It was her only connection to answers she had been seeking her whole life.

There were never secrets in her family. Her mother, Ella, was one of the most honorable and honest people she had ever known and had insisted on never hiding her origins from her. Ann had never doubted for a second how much she was loved and wanted by her mum, though. They were, pretty much, tied at the hip and that became even clearer after her father, Liam, passed away when she was only four. The young guitarist didn’t remember him much. Nor any of his side of the family, to be honest. After the car crash, her mother had decided to come back to England to start over and grieve in peace.

At the time, Ann had been too little to fully understand it all. She wasn’t dumb. She knew that her grandma and grandpa didn’t like her mum and more often than not her dad would fight over the phone with them because of it. He never knew she listened, though, as she made sure to hide well in order not to be spotted. Therefore, she didn’t complain much when they moved to a lovely small house in London, so her mother could run a modest music school not far from their home. Naturally, she missed Switzerland dearly and her dad even more, but Ella made sure to give her the best life possible. Even if it were just the two of them against the world, Ann didn’t have a single complaint about her childhood.

It was what came _before_ it, though, that always had made her wonder and frequently was the cause for her insomnia at night. Because _someone_ out there loved her with all their heart. She liked to think of them as an angel when she was younger. _Her_ angel, who had left for her the most beautiful songs no one had ever heard of. They had gorgeous lyrics, which talked about infinite love and how the stars would always be watching over her. That was her only connection to her angel. Every time she questioned herself, seeking answers of who she was, she would always come back to those old papers, telling her how she was made of stars, music and _so much love_.

As time passed, however, she started to have doubts. Whoever gave her away clearly had loved her a great deal. She just had come to realize that they didn’t love her _enough_. Not to keep her, at least. Sometimes, she felt bitter about it. Then an insane amount of guilt would wash over her, for she had no idea of what circumstances were involved in her birth and she didn’t want to judge anybody. In the end, she settled for feeling sad. After all, were things that terrible that they couldn’t have kept her? Even if she had been loved, had she been wanted at all?

There were many layers to the situation and Ann would have liked to say she felt mature enough to deal with it all. But she knew that she wasn’t ready yet. In the end of the day, though, she was just thankful for being in the world and for having been loved by so many people. Even if she hadn’t know all of them. She had a good life, an incredibly supportive parent, a job that she adored and now she had just accomplished her dream of playing in a rock band for a while. Really, there wasn’t much she could complain about.

“You two are such prudes. Bloody birds of a feather.” Roger grumbled and masterfully twirled his drumsticks with clear annoyance. “People do more than snog, you know.”

“We are aware, Rog. Thank you. Let’s try not to mortify the new girl to death, though." Brian countered with a heavy sigh and a small pat on Ann’s back. He already knew, from previous conversations, that the girl blushed in at least five different tones if anyone’s love life was mentioned.

The drummer rolled his eyes and tiredly threw his hands in the air in frustration. He truly didn’t get why talking about sex always pushed some people’s buttons. Hell, he had even made it a sport once, trying to get Brian all flustered just by bringing up the topic. He was perfectly aware that the guitarist was no saint. He, apparently, just didn’t like to _talk_ about it. Go fucking figure. The girl being just as embarrassed to discuss the subject, though, had been quite of a surprise. For, if she was, indeed, their daughter, whoever was in charge of distributing their genes, clearly favored Brian’s side of the pool.

“You both are being ridiculous. Our very existence is the evidence that people… _make love_ , you can’t be this naïve.” He continued to argue and barely suppressed another eye roll, as he had to change his speech in order not to drop an F-bomb. He had been about to, but Brian’s warning glare made him consider which fights he should pick. Not satisfied, though, he continued. “Honestly, how do you think you came into the world?”

In hindsight, the older guitarist’s alarmed look and subtle head shakes to indicate the urgency in a change of subject should have been enough warnings for him that he was about to make a mistake. In Roger’s defense, he hadn’t been thinking at all. All he felt was his own frustration at Brian’s hypocrisy and he had paid no mind to how his question would have sounded. He never really had a problem with giving the sex talk to his children and he wouldn’t start getting shy at this point of his life.

“I have no idea. I’m adopted. No guarantees of love in that _making_.” Ann spoke dryly as she fidgeted with her hair and pointedly _not_ looked at any of them, cheeks flaming red.

Roger’s brain registered his friend’s heavy sigh at his blunt stupidity, but he paid little attention to it. Inside of his chest, his heart was beating rapidly as if it was trying to win the race of the fucking century. A heavy knot settled in his throat and the drummer found it hard to even think of what to say. Too many thoughts crossed his mind at light’s speed and it took him an instant to realize that he had been supplied with the answer he had been dying to know since he had met her. Now he _knew_ there was chance.

Then, it hit him _how_ that information came to him and he could feel his heart shattering into a million pieces, the shards mercilessly piercing whatever was left. Her words kept playing as a broken record in his head and it had taken the strength of his very last working brain cell to keep him grounded and stop him from spilling all the words of reassurance he had been meaning too. Just because she had been adopted, looked like a perfectly mixed carbon copy of them and had the right age it didn’t have to _mean_ anything, right? It could all be a massive coincidence. Except, of course, that he didn’t believe that line of thought for a second.

“I’m sorry.” He found himself speaking before he noticed. “I’m so, _so_ _sorry_.” He continued and wanted to grimace at how raspy his voice sounded. Yet, he couldn’t control it. In fact, he would have repeated it a thousand times more hadn’t she raised her head and stared at him with her impossibly blue eyes. For a second, he wondered if that was how his friends felt whenever _he_ gave them that look. That powerful grounding force that seemed able to look _into_ his very soul.

“That’s okay.” She offered with a small voice and released him from her gaze as she gently turned to Brian and offered him a thankful smile. Clearly, the two had discussed the subject on the past. Then, she looked at Roger again and kindly smiled at him as well. “Not knowing comes with the package. But I’ve made my peace with it.”

The drummer wanted to scream. He wanted to cry in frustration or punch a hole in the wall. Hell, he wanted to punch _Brian_ for having put him in that situation in the first place all those years ago. Because he didn’t know either if there had been any love involved from his part at all. There had been alcohol, _for sure_. But that was it. And it _killed_ him every time he thought about it. To have Ann, who could very well be _their_ little girl, sharing all those doubts with him, made him angry to no end. For she didn’t deserve it. She shouldn’t have had to spend her life wondering those things and the fact that she _did_ was _his_ fault.

Before he had any chance to answer, though, one of their assistants came knocking urgently on the door to usher them to the stage. The sound of his knuckles against the wood had actually startled the drummer, but he managed to cover it well. He would have to hide many more feelings in the next few hours if he wanted to make it to the end of the night without becoming a fucking mess.

He could already feel a green-eyed monster starting to come alive in his chest as he observed how closer Ann had been to Brian than to him. Naturally, it had been expected since they bonded over their damn guitars and Roger had barely talked to her on the past week. However, he was determined to change that. There were so many more things he needed to know and, even without any answers, he could already feel his heart aching with the need to befriend her. God, he had _one_ first somewhat conversation with her and he already had been an arse. Way to go, Taylor.

For tonight, though, he would have to focus on playing the bloody show of his life. They needed to kick start this tour as a well-oiled machine and, as always, absolutely blow people’s minds. He already had to manage tonight without Rufus, who would be able to join them only on the following week, as he was still wrapping up his latest project with his own band. Obviously, he could play just fine on his own or with his son’s provisory replacement. However, he felt much better knowing his boy had his back and he blindly trusted his competence. He had trained him, after all.

As he made his way to the stage, he tried to clean his head of all distractions. Tonight’s show was about making an impression and making sure Ann would get a good reception from the fans. Halfway there, Freddie and John joined them, both looking like a couple of mischievous teenagers with lips way too swollen for people who were supposed to be just picking clothes. Nothing unusual there. Nor on the warm hand that squeezed his shoulder in reassurance or on the encouraging look that Brian offered him as well.

What _was_ new, though, was the playful, gentle nudge he gave to the young girl next to him and the bright smile he received in return. Even with her anxiety, he could see how she was confidently holding her guitar and how a familiar fire burned in her eyes. At that moment, Roger had no doubt that she was right where she belonged. And that was a beautiful sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t even begin to tell you guys how much I love this girl. I’m glad I got the chance to write a bit more of her perspective. Even if it didn’t come out quite as I had planned. Is it (her POV) something you guys would like to see more? 
> 
> I’m dying to develop more of her personality as the plot goes. I have a few ideas of where I want to take it. But, let’s see. I always end up in a different place. ^^”
> 
> For the next chapter, we will see more interactions between them as an after show moment and as the week goes by. I think. I have started to write, but heavens know how I’ll finish. But I do promise Rufus is coming soon!! *-*
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! If you can, please leave a kudo or a comment. It’s my absolute pleasure talking to you guys!! <3333333333333
> 
> Lots of love!!  
> Xx


	7. Chapter XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a glimpse of the week following Queen’s opening concert and the fans reaction to Ann’s temporary presence in the band, as well as her developing relationship with the boys. With Rufus’ arriving soon, Roger and Ann share a special moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! This chapter turned out to be almost twice longer as I had planned, but I didn’t want to split it in half. Sorry for taking so long to post it. Every time I sat down to write it, something interrupted me or demanded my immediate attention. 
> 
> It didn’t quite turn out as I wanted, and all the breaks in writing certainly didn’t help much. I hope it all makes sense. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience and motivation. You guys are wonderful!!
> 
> Also, big thanks to my sister, @marveltrwsh, for taking her time to beta this chapter. You rock, sis. <3
> 
> This chapter is very angst-y, but I don’t think major warnings apply.
> 
> Enjoy!

To everybody’s relief and no one’s surprise, the fans absolutely _adored_ Ann. Naturally, there were some critics that complained lengthily about keeping the _purity_ of the original band or some bulshit like that. But, they were quickly drowned by the massive amount of incredibly supportive response she received from the fans.

Even before the show, Freddie had used his influence on Instagram to create some sort of buzz around her, playfully teasing his followers about the temporary addition to the band. It was Brian, though, who posted a lovely picture with her before the show and wrote the sweetest text to caption it, explaining the situation and not measuring words to express his gratitude. That, of course, drove everybody wild with curiosity and excitement for the big opening night.

John wished he could say that he remembered most of it, but that would be distorting the facts a little bit. In his defense, his brain had just been thoroughly kissed out of his head and it wasn’t as if he was a young cookie anymore. In fact, he was pretty sure that Freddie would certainly be the death of him if he continued to make his heart race like that. Not that he would complain, of course. There were certainly worse ways to go.

What he _did_ recall, though, was that they all had played wonderfully, as usual. The crowd had been incredibly responsive and his husband was clearly having the time of his life as he kept every single person on that arena wrapped around his little finger. For his part, he let the music engulf his body as he danced his worries away and tried not to think of all the eyes on them. After so many years, he could probably go through their routine with his own eyes closed. Especially with Roger’s perfectly leading beats. Without a doubt, Queen was a force to be reckoned and that message couldn’t be clearer than on that night.

Even with his aching wrist, Brian managed to play a good number of their songs before he signalized to Freddie that he would rest for the next few ones and that they should finally introduce Ann to the thrilled fans. Naturally, the singer immediately got the message and, true to his stage persona, accomplished to bring her out on the most charming and flattering way possible before moving on to the next song. John had no idea if it was a side effect of Freddie’s words, the hype of the show or the sheer charisma she exulted as she confidently started to play, but it had been clear that everybody _adored_ her.

As for Brian, he really couldn’t be prouder. He observed with great delight as she elicited beautiful notes from her guitar, perfectly following the rhythm in a flawless performance. In fact, he was quite happy to just lean against the drum’s platform, apply the ice package to his troublesome wrist and enjoy the show for a few minutes. It had been Freddie’s idea to have him stay on the stage, so the fans wouldn’t miss him terribly and they all got to see his approval of the new girl. Honestly, that had been one of his brightest moments. Not only it worked wonderfully, but it also gave Brian the best seat in the house.

Behind him, Roger seemed to be more focused than ever on his beats. However, every once in a while, he would spare a glance in Ann’s direction with an equally proud smile on his face. All in all, he was definitely quieter than normal, but he didn’t miss his chance of teasing Freddie for the delight of the fans or giving the older guitarist his trademark mischievous grin from behind his drums. Which, of course, never failed to make Brian’s heart flutter inside of his chest. Not that he would ever confess that, of course.

Judging his wrist sufficiently numbed, he dared to come back to finish the couple final songs of their show and profusely praised the young girl for her brilliant performance. The fans, extraordinarily, joined in with thunderous applause and the commotion left Ann with sparkling eyes and the brightest smile on her face. Brian could swear that she won over a thousand hearts with her lovely wave and the charming kiss she blew to the crowd. Honestly, he had no idea of how his friends thought they were similar, when she clearly had Roger’s energy down to a tee.

Freddie seemed to share the same opinion with him about that. On the morning following the show, the singer was almost bursting in excitement as he scrolled through Instagram during breakfast and cheerfully announced how Ann’s number of followers had skyrocketed overnight. Later, when Brian himself curiously checked the comments on his first post, he was quite pleased to find a great amount of warm welcomes and positive wishes for the young guitarist. Without a doubt, the numbers of her own account had grown significantly.

In his personal opinion, people would be in for a treat with her page. He had been rather enchanted by the variety of pictures she often posted. Many were clear views from landscapes that should have looked common, but that, somehow, she had made them seem _special_. Her selfies had a dork quality and frequently featured her dog as well. From his earlier talks with her, he had gathered that the sable and white rough collie was called Astra and that Ann loved her more than anything. The massive, yet adorably sweet looking dog had been her best friend since her early twenties and currently could be found under her mother’s care as she toured with Queen.

Then, of course, there were her stories with the funniest and most cunning comments he had seen in a while about any given subject. In spite of her shy nature, Ms. Meyer clearly had a lot to say and her reactions to normal life activities were a delight to witness. Clearly, he never had known how much he needed in his life a poetically detailed review about instant noodles until he saw her video. Bless her. If that still wasn’t enough to entertain the fans, her playful banter with Freddie on the comment’s certainly would. Brian could tell that she was still a bit shy regarding those, but he had a good feeling that, with time, she would grow more confident and those would be just priceless.

Roger, naturally, had been more than interested in the fact that there was an actual source of pictures of her and that it meant that there was a good possibility of learning more about the girl who had turned his world upside down. In fact, he felt quite stupid for not having thought of using the internet before. In his defense, though, it wasn’t as if he spent a great amount of his time on the damn thing. He wasn’t a big fan of going online and that was no secret. However, he supposed that he could make an exception in that case. Even if that meant awkwardly calling Tigerlilly to ask if someone could see how often their Instagram page was visited. For research purposes, of course.

As Brian had mentioned, her posts were absolutely adorable. She loved to capture small moments of their lives, usually with a clever and inventive angle, and always had something interesting to say about her experience so far. It was clear how much she was enjoying being on tour with them and her bright smile on her pictures never failed to make his longing heart warm up. However, his favorite pictures had to be, without a doubt, the ones she had already posted from her childhood on some sort of Thursday ritual.

She had been, without a doubt, a gorgeous child. With her bright blue eyes and curly hair on lovely pigtails, she made Roger remember so much of his daughters as they were growing up that he hardly could help the wave of hope that grew even stronger inside of his chest. Also, in spite of her army of pictures with books and blankets, there were also many displays of her bold endeavors through life that made the drummer proudly smile at his phone. For, as much as she seemed inclined to show Brian’s personality, she had the same mischievous sparkle in her eyes as he did. That, even without any proof, comforted him more than he would have guessed.

What truly had moved him, though, were the countless photos showing Ann in different moments with a beautiful older woman who, after struggling with the challenging sections of that damn app, he found out was her mother. The duo always seemed to be having fun and it was obvious how much love there was in that relationship. They looked exquisite together and the mixture of the young girl’s light hair with her mother’s fierce raven curls made a wonderful contrast. Ella Meyer, as he had learned, was at least a decade younger than he was and had sweet chocolate eyes that looked at Ann as if the guitarist was the most precious thing in the universe.

As he had spent hours staring at their pictures, Roger felt incredibly grateful for that. If she wasn’t his daughter, it was good to know that such a special girl had been blessed with a loving parent. However, if it turned out that she was, indeed, _his_ , he honestly wouldn’t have enough words to thank the heavens for that blessing. For, as much as Carol had promised him that his little girl would go to a wonderful family, it would certainly put his mind to rest to have actual proof that his angel was raised with all the love she deserved.

After researching a bit about her, Roger felt slightly more confident to actually start talking to Ann about amenities. He felt bad for having pried so intensely into her life, but it wasn’t as if he _could_ apologize without sounding like a complete creep. _“I swear I’m not a stalker. I just think you can be my long lost daughter”_ really wasn’t the best conversation opener he could start with. In fact, he was terrified of even _thinking_ about how that talk would go if it were proved that she was their baby. For, one does not just turn to a person and break news of that caliber without something to soften the blow first.

All in all, though, somehow, he managed to finally chat with her without making a complete fool of himself. He had been more than pleased to confirm that she was, indeed, a cute little dork just like her Instagram suggested and exactly like Brian was for the greatest part of time. On the following week of their opening show, with the tension of that first performance but behind, he had many opportunities of just sitting down for a great talk with her about many different topics.

Sometimes, it would be just the two of them on the hotel lobby as they waited for the others to come down or, then, once in a while, he would join the animated conversation she and Brian were engaged in about animal welfare or dish recipes. During other occasions, all of Queen would be together in the same room just hanging out, rehearsing or running a sound check and it was a given that the air would be filled with laughter. Between Freddie’s blatant teasing, John’s barely hidden amused comebacks, Brian’s soft chuckles, Roger’s famous innuendoes and Ann’s quiet knowing smirks, they all had clicked wonderfully.

He was curious to see how Rufus would react to having her addition to their group. Before, on their latest tours, his son usually got along just fine with everybody, from his uncles to the last member of their crew. Yet, it was the first time there was someone new so close to the core of their band. God forbid those two don’t like each other. Or even worse, that they start to like each other _too much_. Because that, for certain, would make the older drummer lose his shit altogether.

Fortunately, he had a few more days of peace of mind since Rufus apologized profusely as he informed them that there had been a problem with his own band’s recordings and that he would take a few more days to join them. Probably in Los Angeles, for their sixth show, instead of Phoenix, for the fourth, as he had planned. Roger, despite of the silly relief, was actually sad to hear those news. Between their hectic lives, he was actually looking forward to have his son by his side for a while again. Lately, all of his older children had been busy with their own families and his younger girls were spending some time with their mother instead.

He quite missed them and he made a point of calling them often to check on how they were doing. Even with the distance, he still worried about his children. The parent who didn’t could throw the first stone at him. Roger cared deeply about his family and he had been accused more than once of being overprotective with Tigerlilly and Lola. Who could blame him, though? Giving Harriet away was a wound that would never truly heal. Overcompensating with his other daughters wasn’t really something he could stop.

Now, he actually had an opportunity of getting closer to Ann as well and, slowly, the drummer was feeling more confident to approach her a bit more often for quiet conversations as well. Be it as they lingered behind on the breakfast table and she confessed how she already missed her mother, to which Roger managed to get a grip around his aching heart and actually offered some useful comforting. Or, then, on blessedly tranquil afternoons in between concerts when he invited her to jam a little bit on the drums and he felt his chest swelling with pride at how brilliantly she played _his_ instrument instead of Brian’s silly guitar.

He had to admit that it was still hard to see her closely interacting with his best friend. Not only because of the unjustified green feeling of jealousy he would get because of it. But also for the nearly paralyzing guilt that had sent him, more than once in this tour, into angry crying sessions that he managed to keep confined to the walls of his hotel room or behind his sunglasses at that blasted private jet. If John had sensed something wrong with him during that last one, the bassist at least had the good sense of not cornering him at that moment. It was certain, though, that at some point his friend would come ask about his wellbeing and heavens knew how he would deal with _that_ talk.

Naturally, he had been used to that corrosive guilt that never truly left him alone. However, actively observing how happily Brian had welcomed her into his life was like twisting even more that deeply ingrained knife. Because Roger knew how much he had denied his friend by hiding everything from him. Even worse, if his suspicions were to be real, telling the truth to the guitarist would absolutely _break_ him. God, he was sure that Brian would probably never talk to him again after it. And that was a scenario that made the drummer want to jump out of the nearest bridge just by thinking of it. For, he could live without Brian’s love. But not with his _hate_.

Those were the thoughts that had kept him awake for most of the night. When he saw the clock quickly passing the hours and morning being closer than ever, he gave up entirely on the futile task of trying sleeping. He would have to get up early anyway to properly welcome Rufus, who had spent the whole night on a plane and was expected to arrive at their hotel before breakfast. He missed his boy and wanted to give him a hug as soon as possible.

Pretending to himself that he would just open Instagram to clean the annoying notifications and to keep himself distracted, he managed to resist solid three minutes before he sighed and clicked on Ann’s stories. He couldn’t help it. It had become his guilty pleasure. When he actually had featured in one of those, he had blushed so hard at seeing himself grinning like a silly man with a half-eaten doughnut next to her beaming face. The fact that she was the one who got him that treat was just another detail that made him smile all over again.

That incredibly early morning, though, he found himself surprised at finding not a late night post, but a rather recent publication picturing a still dark sky and what seemed to be the hotel’s pool in the terrace. Los Angeles was an ocean of light on the background and he could see small ripples on the water. Normally, he wouldn’t be concerned by that. However, if that girl had thought that swimming at that time of the morning, in the cold air of late February, was a good idea, he certainly would give her a piece of his mind.

He didn’t give a damn if she was already too old for that sort of scolding of if that bloody city was in the middle of the desert. Roger was having none of it. Because if she caught a cold, they all would. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself as he fetched a robe and some slippers before he headed to the terrace with his phone and a warm blanket just as a precaution. For, he didn’t know Ella Meyer, but he had a feeling that she would rip off his balls if he dared to deliver her daughter back in other state different of perfect. Easily preventable illnesses included.

What he did find upon arriving on the pool area, though, was a thankfully dry guitarist, who seemed to be only dipping her feet in the water as she quietly contemplated the sky. For a moment, Roger wondered if he should intrude at all. His carefully composed speech about low temperatures and bad decisions easily slipping out of his mind. Before he could make a decision, though, Ann turned her head in his direction and smiled softly at him after a few seconds of confusion.

The drummer could imagine how he looked, at five in the morning, wearing a black robe on top of his pajama and holding firmly a heavy green blanket as if the thing was about to fly away at any second. If he had one hand perched on his hip, he didn’t notice it until Ann looked at him with a sweet expression on her face, though. With a chuckle, she nodded her head in a clear invitation for him to sit by her side and he hesitated only for an instant before he joined her by the poolside. Feet tucked under his thighs instead of in the water, thank you very much.

 

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked in a whisper after a while. The two of them had been content with just staying in a comfortable silence. Yet, he couldn’t stop wondering what could have brought his young friend to that terrace at that time. At least she was wearing a coat.

“I felt like paying them a visit.” She replied with a quiet voice and raised her chin to the sky for a second. A few silver dots adorned the darkness above them, the city lights preventing a better visibility of what it should have looked like.

“Do you do this often?” Roger spoke softly and frowned a little bit, trying to get a better understanding of the girl next to him.

“I used to do it every day when I was younger. Nowadays, not so much.” Ann offered with a pensive face and directed her gaze to the water, her feet moving in careful movements under the surface. She was silent for a moment before she added with a voice so small that, for a second, Roger though he had imagined it. “They are special to me.”

He nodded at that. The drummer could tell that she must have been feeling quite vulnerable admitting that, given how serious she got. With a gentle hum, he looked up to the small number of stars, shinning faintly against the light pollution. From the back of his mind, came old memories of ancient times, in considerably quieter places, when another person he cared about had also looked fondly to the sky. The thought brought a painful smile to his face as he recalled the bittersweet moments where Brian was so enamored with the universe, that he hardly noticed the young drummer staring at him as if he were the sun itself.

“Sorry, but, why an aerospace engineer and not, you know, an astronomer or something?” He caught himself wondering aloud as the idea crossed his mind. He understood Brian’s fascination with the cosmos and, therefore, his field. However, if she felt the same way, it puzzled him why she would choose a mechanical area.

“I guess I got tired of just watching. I considered being an astronomer, but…” She said in a pensive tone and gazed up again before continuing. “I had to _get_ there. Sitting and waiting would kill me with boredom. They… They are all I have.”

“The stars?” He carefully whispered, not wanting to startle her. Clearly, it was an important subject for the young woman and he wanted to give her all of his attention.

Ann nodded silently as she leaned back on her elbows to look at the sky again. Earlier, when she couldn’t have convinced her body to sleep for nothing in the world, she figured she would give this a try. Normally, she would have gone for her literal comfort blanket. The one she had come with all those years ago. But her precious gift was neatly folded all the way back in her flat in London. Whenever she missed it, the guitarist would turn to the sky instead and allow the dark night and its gazillion stars to act as a replacement. After all, that’s what the pattern of the soft material was supposed to represent anyway.

It wasn’t a frequent occurrence anymore, however, from time to time she would get in a rather contemplative mood and there wouldn’t be enough bargain in the universe with her brain to make it shut up. Her thoughts were like wild horses inside of her mind and, lately, she found herself being forced to dwell on ideas she hadn’t experienced in a long time. They weren’t quite _hurtful_ anymore, but she was so tired of them at that point.

She played a game when she was younger. Not knowing who her biological parents were, kind of opened up the whole world as a possibility. She couldn’t help but wonder every time she saw a glimpse of blonde hair, a sparkle of blue eyes or whenever someone with delicate cheekbones crossed her path. Because _what if_? It was all rather silly, she admitted. But who could blame a child for imagining and speculating? Someone, out there, could look exactly like her and that was _extraordinary_.

As she grew up, though, the game became nothing but a depressing pass time. She wasn’t special or anything and the world was certainly filled with a too great amount of blondes for things to be easy for her. Blue eyes? She had seen hundreds already. No big deal there. Eventually, she had just stopped making those comparisons, as they were rather pointless. Then, of course, Instagram had to go wild and mess with her head all over again.

She got it. Her golden locks and baby blue eyes made her look like Roger a bit. Her unruly curls had people plastering side by side pictures of her and Brian all over her DM. That kind of annoyed her a little bit, for she absolutely could do without people motivating her silly dead end game. In fact, she made a whole point of _not_ looking too much at those photos at all. The possibility of one of those incredibly kind men being her father was so ridiculous that she didn’t even dare to go there.

The discussion, though, had lit something in her brain. The fact that so many people were talking about who the hell she looked like made her hope just for a flimsy second if maybe, just _maybe_ her biological parents would get to see her too. She tried to shake off that idea, but she couldn’t help it. For many years, she had wondered if her parents worried about her sometimes. If they were _curious_. They had to be. What type of people brings a baby to the world and _forget_?

Ann was trying not to think too much about it, though. Her insomnia didn’t need any more fuel than what it already had. Instead, she was determined to try her best to focus on how wonderful her life was at the moment. After all, she was touring with one of the most iconic rock bands of _all time_. It was insane! For so long she had struggled with following the paths her parents had left to her and now she felt truly accomplished. She had _done_ it. After years of dedication to her studies and work, she had finally managed to actually send something to space. Not to mention, her lifelong affinity with music and all the hours she had spent learning new instruments at her mother’s school were, at last, having a chance to shine. Somewhere, if her parents could see her, she hoped they were proud.

Next to her, Roger was politely giving her time to collect her thoughts and she appreciated him immensely for that. During the past days, she had been pleasantly surprised to find out he didn’t dislike her as she first had assumed. She hadn’t meant to misjudge him or anything. But she couldn’t deny the fact that he had been, by far, the most distant of them all on the beginning. Not like, John, who had a warm presence even when he didn’t talk much, and certainly not like Freddie or Brian, who chatted with her about a myriad of things whenever they had a chance.

Perhaps he was going through something. For a moment, she even considered if it was something that she had done. However, her worries quickly vanished as they started to have more contact. As she had suspected, Roger was incredibly fun to be around. He made her laugh with his easygoing behavior and his grumpy tantrums were amusing to watch. Especially when Brian melted his pout away with some clever bribery that could vary from a thoughtful treat to kind words.

Hanging out with Queen, so far, was a wonderful experience. Freddie and John were also extraordinary people to be around and, gradually, she was feeling more comfortable around them all to relax a bit and crack a few jokes of her own. Hell, she even had let the singer have his fun and dress her with a sparkling jacket the other night for the show. The look on his face as he inspected the result of his work had been too precious for her do deny his request of setting aside her outfit for tonight as well. She didn’t mind being his _rock Barbie_ , as he had excitedly put.

Then, of course, there was Brian. She held so much respect for him, not only as a musician, but for all of his work in the scientific community. When she was younger and her mother had introduced her to Queen’s records, aside of being absolutely enchanted by their awesome music, she also had become a fan of the guitarist unsurprisingly quickly. Perhaps, that was even the reason her mother had had shown her the records in the first place. After all, Brian had proved that her dream of reaching the stars while making wonderful music was entirely possible.

“They were a gift.” She offered with a small voice and sighed as she realized that it didn’t make any sense. For his part, Roger looked kindly attentive as she continued. “They’re my only connection to my biological parents. Stars and music.”

The drummer gasped silently at that and had to use every last bit of his will to school back his expression to something neutral. Inside, he could feel his heart breaking against his ribcage at the sheer force of her confession. In the front of his mind, memories of starry blankets and heartbreaking, unpublished, love songs danced painfully, making his eyes sting with his suppressed tears. How could he still have any doubts? It was almost as if the universe itself had been giving him unmistakable signs.

On that moment, the urge to pull Ann into his arms and never let go again was so strong that it almost consumed him whole. His right hand had moved even before he had noticed and, as realization downed on him of what he was about to do, he struggled to hold himself back and settled for gently squeezing her shoulder instead. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to have noticed his inner fight, as she had her impossibly blue eyes turned to the sky once more. When she felt his comforting touch, though, the young guitarist looked at him again with a small smile.

“Do you think they would be proud of me?” Ann asked softly after a minute. She had started to fiddle with the hem of her coat and the question had slipped from her lips before she could help it.

She had always wondered about it, but never had dared to ask her mum. The blonde knew that their relationship allowed those lines of questionings and the wise woman probably wouldn’t be offended by it. However, she didn’t want to risk the possibility of making her mother feel bad. There was no need for it, when Ella already did her damn best to make her feel loved and wanted every second of every day.

With Roger, though, Ann felt comfortable enough to go forward with it. Something about the older drummer made her feel safe enough to value his opinion on the matter. Perhaps it was due to the fact of how kind and caring he had been towards her later. Or, then, because of how much he clearly worried about his own children. The blonde had already lost count of how many times she had seen him phoning or texting them with the fondest smile on his face. Whatever it was, she trusted him enough to open up a bit.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Roger sighed sadly and he hoped that his voice didn’t reflect how broken he felt inside. His little girl was hurting and that was all his fault. Instantly, his grip on her shoulder tightened and, before he knew it, he had pulled her into a warm hug, as he had been so desperate to do for the past minutes.

For a second, the young guitarist stiffened in his hold and, for the duration of a heartbeat, Roger was afraid that he had crossed an invisible line with his sudden gesture. However, to his pleasant surprise, the blonde girl started to slowly wrap her arms around him and she carefully let her head rest against his chest with a soft sigh. He could tell by her even breaths that she wasn’t uncomfortable with the warm embrace and that made him feel a myriad of things. In fact, he could hardly believe that he was _finally_ holding her again.

She felt incredibly fragile and a taunting knot formed on his stomach as he recalled just how tiny and perfect his little girl had once felt in his arms. He was aware that he would never be able to recover all of those lost years and that killed him inside. Yet, just the fact that he had been blessed with the chance of having her so close to him again made Roger feel like the luckiest soul to ever walk on Earth. Holding his tears were nearly impossible at that point, but, somehow, he managed it. Heavens knew that he wasn’t anywhere ready to start giving explanation at that point, and she certainly didn’t seem ready to hear them either.

“They would have to be blind fools not to see what an extraordinary person you are, love.” He said carefully, hoping his voice sounded at least somewhat stable, after holding her just for a while longer. If he could, he would never let her go again. Even with his chest heavy with guilt and sorrow, unshed tears burning behind his eyes and trembling fingers, he ached to freeze that moment forever. The sky had just started to lighten up a bit and he tried as hard as he could to memorize the fresh smell of her lavender shampoo as well as how warm she felt in his hold. “If it’s worth of anything, I’m damn proud of you.”

Ann hugged him a bit tighter, not fully trusting her vocal chords to work without snitching on her tears. True enough, she hadn’t been expecting such an affectionate reaction from him. But she was loving every second of it. It wasn’t like being embraced by her mother, who had done it so many times by now and it felt so natural that sometimes she didn’t even notice it. It was also completely divergent from her past partners. There was a different quality to it that she couldn’t put her finger on. Yet, she was loving every second of it. It felt like being enveloped by the warmest teddy bear and she wondered how often she could get away with receiving more of those.

“It means a lot, Rog. Thank you.” She whispered once she managed to get a better control of her feelings. She knew that they weren’t extremely close, but it felt wonderful to hear that from him.

He hummed gently and squeezed her softly just for a second more before he gently released her from his hold. To be honest, she could totally have been there for a while longer. She had always been a fan of cuddles and with her mother away she kind of was starting to feel desperate for them. Reluctantly, she dropped her arms as well and raised her head to meet the drummer with a bright smile. He had the kindest look on his face, but his eyes looked incredibly sad. That gave her a pause.

“What’s wrong?” She carefully asked with a small voice. Had she done something?

“Don’t worry about it, love.” He spoke softly and offered her a fond smile before he sighed and continued. “I miss my kids.”

Roger settled for that half-truth. It wasn’t as if he would start spilling his lifelong secrets at the crack of dawn all over her like that. He certainly had no doubts anymore of who she was, but he wanted to be completely sure before he even started to think on how to break the news. He had to make a phone call. One that he had been dreading to do and dying to at the same time. That would be his last, and definitive, confirmation. For now, though, he would have to be content with having her close by. That alone was already a miracle much bigger than he probably deserved.

“Rufus will be arriving this morning, right?” She mused as her feet balanced in the water and the first sunrays made her hair glimmer like a halo around her head.

“In less than an hour, I think.” Roger pensively replied as he remembered his son telling him how early his flight would land. The thought that he would be seeing his blond troublemaker soon made his heart a bit lighter. In fact, an idea passed his mind. “Would you like to join us for breakfast?”

Sooner or later, those two would have to meet, after all. Honestly, he had no idea of what to expect from Rufus, nor if the boy would see through his bulshit the second he laid eyes on her. He wasn’t a moron and heavens knew he had way less tact than his bandmates. If he thought something was eerily familiar about Ann’s look, he wouldn’t let Roger _breathe_ until he reached the bottom of it and that was something the drummer could totally do without for the time being.

“I would hate to intrude.” She spoke shyly and the drummer could swear that her expression had been so _Brian_ that it almost scared him.

“You’d never. You are always welcome, love.” He offered gently, but didn’t pressure her. After all, from the tales Freddie had been excitedly sharing about Rufus for the past week, he wouldn’t be surprised if the blonde were a bit wary of him.

“Alright, then. Let’s meet the infamous Rufus Tiger Taylor.” She chuckled lightly and tilted her head in the direction of the sun, a content smile adorning her face.

In his chest, Roger felt his heart racing with anticipation. He truly didn’t know how he would feel having both of them in a room, but the perspective was exciting and frightening at the same time. Surely, his son wouldn’t notice anything right away. He had at least a few days to make that phone call before Rufus became suspicious and decided to investigate matters by himself. However, for a few more minutes, the drummer decided he could bask in the sun for a little longer. His problems weren’t going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so excited to finally get Rufus in the story!! I think he will be a great addition to the plot. <3
> 
> Next chapter we probably will have another time skip and more details on how the relationship between Ann and Ruf will work out. Also, we might get a visit from a key character. I’m still deciding. 
> 
> Part of me is full of ideas on how to drag this one forever, but my sane side is very much against it. The goal here is to finish somewhere between 10 or 15 chapters. Amen.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Please let me know your thoughts!! Your comments and kudos are very precious to me, and truly motivational. <3
> 
> Lots of love!!  
> Xx


	8. Chapter VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Rufus and Ann’s friendship kick off with an awkward start. A few days later, the band prepares in the back stage for their performance in New York and a familiar face pays them a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Once more, many apologies for taking so long to update!! 
> 
> In this chapter, we will see a bit of Ann’s fierce nature as well as her building friendship with Rufus. Also, John is starting to get too suspicious. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your patience and kind words!! You guys are phenomenal!! Also, my eternal gratitude to @marveltrwsh who, even as she coughs her lungs out, is an incredible beta. Much love, sis. <3
> 
> No major warnings apply to this chapter. There are, though, a few mentions of harassment. Stay safe. <3
> 
> Enjoy!

Meeting Rufus Tiger Taylor certainly could have been considered a thrilling experience. Even at an ungodly early hour of the morning, after a long a tiring flight, the younger drummer seemed able to get everybody hyped with his bright energy.

Ann had had no idea of what to expect of Roger’s son. Surely, she had heard many stories about his naughty childhood and even more regarding his wild late teen years. The guitarist had no clue if he would turn out to be a fun friend to have around or a complete asshole whose guts she would want to use as a strangling weapon against himself. Later, though, the first option proved to be true and she couldn’t be happier for having met him.

At first, there was the awkward moment of greeting him at the hotel lobby, with an excited and fretting Roger by her side who sprung to hug the tall boy as if they had spent a year apart. She had to admit that the whole thing had been adorable, especially with Rufus reciprocating with so much enthusiasm that he actually managed to lift his dad a few inches above the floor. Apparently, being cuddly was a trademark of the Taylor family, which she found amusing to no end. As much as the two tried to seem badass drummers, she could already tell that, just like Rog, his son was also a massive teddy bear.

“So, this is the famous Ann I’ve heard so much about. Uncle Fred won’t shut up about you.” The blond spoke teasingly as he offered her a hand.

“I’ve heard a lot about you as well. Nice to meet you.” She replied confidently as they shook hands and he grinned brightly at her. Whatever Freddie had told him, the guitarist was sure that she had much more dirt on the boy than he had on her.

“Jesus, dad. Have you replaced me? Where did you _find_ her?” Rufus joked as his eyes ran from her feet all the way up to her head. Honestly, had it been anyone else, she would had felt uncomfortable. But Ann could tell that there was no malice in his look. It was just like the times the other members of the band stared at her with a thoughtful expression on their faces. Whatever they were seeing, it was a mystery to her. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rufus.” Roger scolded him with a tense tone and crossed his arms. “You’re being rude, young man.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He turned to her with an apologetic smile and shyly rubbed the back of his neck as he cast his electric blue eyes to the floor before he dared to gaze at her again. “I mean, Uncle John _did_ warn me that you look a lot like me. I thought he was exaggerating.”

“That’s alright. It’s the hair and the eyes.” She spoke calmly. Ann was getting used to it by then. Not that she _saw_ it too, as she actually made an effort to try not to, but it had become a common occurrence already for people to compare her with them. With a teasing smile, she added. “I’m prettier, though.”

Rufus mockingly gasped and narrowed his eyes at her, hands flying to his chest and completely missing Roger’s soft chuckle. “Now, wait a second, missy. Clearly you got it wrong.”

“Right. Whatever makes you sleep better at night, cupcake.” Ann shrugged and gently raised her hands in a peace sign. The playful look of indignation on his face was adorable. Kind of similar to when Astra thought they would be going for a walk and it turned out she was just getting the mail instead.

“This is a pointless discussion, darlings.” Came the confident statement that startled the young guitarist for a second, as she had completely failed to spot Freddie coming in their direction. “We all know I’m the prettier one around here.”

“Undoubtedly.” John spoke in a serious tone, only a few steps behind the singer, as the both of them hugged tightly the flustered drummer, who smiled fondly at them.

“You are all gorgeous. Let’s get some food, please.” Roger whined with a grumpy voice as he motioned for someone of the hotel’s staff to take care of Rufus luggage. That felt a bit odd, since Ann was already used to see her friend never shying away from bragging about his good looks. Even in his old age, it was undeniable that the drummer cared a lot about his appearance. She decided he must had been just hungry, then. Everyone knew better than to stay between Roger and his food.

After a couple of minutes of properly arranging the matter of the luggage with the polite porter who came to their aid, the small group moved to the large dining room while happily chatting about Rufus’ trip. There, various trays of fruits, pastries and other breakfast food were already starting to be placed on the buffet table. Thankfully, the hotel was quite efficient regarding that and the early birds of the band never had trouble with waiting too long to eat. Not that she usually _woke up_ with the birds, like John and, subsequently, Freddie. In her case, it was more like an insomnia forced early rising. In fact, more often than not, she would find Brian already seated by himself as he sipped on his tea and checked on his Instagram feed.

Therefore, she wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he joined them a few minutes later, eyes gaping in confusion as he registered that everyone else was already up and busily eating. Ann didn’t blame him, though. Their table certainly was much fuller than it used to be. Not that it was a bad thing. In fact, she quite enjoyed having them all cheerfully talking about diverse subjects all at the same time. It never had been like that back home with their tiny family and she actually liked the experience.

“Dad says you play the drums too.” Rufus, who had somehow ended up sitting next to her, mentioned nonchalantly as he took a healthy bite out of a jam drenched toast.

“I do, actually. Technically, I’m a drummer, not a guitarist.” She excitedly replied. From what she had heard, the blond was excellent at it as well. Munching on a much more contained piece of her own toast, she realized that her slice probably had the same amount of jam as well. Finally, someone who shared her opinion on the proper ratio on stickiness of bread.

Humming his acknowledgement, he nodded his head to a silent beat as he frowned in a thoughtful expression. To her left, Brian and John were in a passionate discussion about smoothies and she was almost giving her input on whether avocados should be part of it or not when Rufus’ following question nearly made her choke on her tea.

“We don’t have to do the thing where I hit on you, you decline the offer and we find out we work best as friends, right?” He asked with a calm face, as if he had just pointed out the possibility of rain later, and swiftly licked the jam of his fingers. “No offense, it’s just that you seem cool and I like you. But it’s too weird to date someone who looks just like me.” 

For a second, Ann considered throwing her apple straight in the middle of his forehead. The _nerve_ of this boy. “Are you always this blunt?” She asked with a scoff, eyes still not leaving the fruit as she thought of mathematical equations to get the best propelling angle.

“Kinda. We’ll spend a long time together and I think we should get that out of the way.” He spoke confidently and fully turned his body to directly look at her. “Sorry. You’re pretty. I normally date the pretty girls.”

“So do I.” Ann pointedly replied as she took a sharp bite out of her apple, deciding to spare his head for the time being. The shocked look on his face was worth not giving him a bruise for his arrogance.

He stayed quiet for a moment, his deep blue eyes blinking several times in her direction and his toast completely forgotten on the plate. By the time he actually opened his mouth again, the apple was almost finished. “I just made a fool of myself, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, kinda. Very presumptuous of you.” She offered matter-of-factly and carefully sipped on her tea again. Honestly, she had figured from the stories that the blond had a lot of bravado. But, just a she had suspected, if the pink of his cheeks and the soft look of his eyes were any indication, Rufus actually was a really sweet person who was still trying to figure out how to go about stuff. _Boys_.

“Sorry about that. Can we start over?” He asked sheepishly and Ann though that the small dose of mortification of that morning was already punishment enough for his bold assumptions.

“Sure, we can. What was that you were saying about friendship?” She spoke gently, putting him out of his misery, and received a bright smile in return.

“Mates?” He asked, hand lifted in a fist and a hopeful look in his face making his electric eyes stand out even more. The small gesture was so simple and youthful that the guitarist could help herself but chuckled at it.

“Mates.” She nodded and rolled her eyes as their fists connected in a small bump. “Pass the damn bagel, will you?”

In front of them, Freddie smirked behind his mug and, for an instant, Ann thought it was for something Roger had said. Then, the singer winked in her direction and she blushed at the idea of him hearing their awkward conversation. She hadn’t actually told the boys about her sexual preferences, because it was completely irrelevant and she was absolutely sure that they wouldn’t mind a single bit. Yet, it wasn’t as if she had planned to get it out in the open in the middle of breakfast during the worst _non_ -pick up line ever. Well, _carpe the fuck diem_.

From that moment on, though, her relationship with Rufus only seemed to improve and, before she knew it, they were acting like best buddies. After leaving Los Angeles and heading south to Texas, then moving north again until they finally reached New York, it was as if they had been best friends since forever. By the time they actually hit the Big Apple, she could already say for sure that they were practically joined by the hip.

Naturally, her friendship with all members of the band had been working wonderfully as well. From her fascinating conversations with Brian, fun moments with Freddie, Roger’s ever present jokes and comforting hugs, and even the precious advices she got from John, it was clear as the light of the day how much they all cared about her. It was Rufus, though, with his never-ending teasing, sneaked bottles of beer and his sheer gift of making her laugh who fully completed the experience.

They got along incredibly well. It was nice finally having someone who seemed to have her same quirks. Between her crazy years of studying and working, it wasn’t as if she had a lot of time to make a lot of friends and she hardly saw the ones from her childhood anymore. It felt different with Rufus. Liking him was absolutely effortless and just as she had thought, he was still figuring out life. Apparently, being Roger Taylor’s kid wasn’t that easy. Especially being a drummer boy. They had talked a little about it, but she didn’t want to push. With, time, she hoped that he would open up more.

For his, side, he had been _ecstatic_ for finding her. In his words, it was almost like having one of his sisters, but _better_ , because they could talk girls and drums and she _got it_. Not that his sisters weren’t amazing, of course. It was just… _different_. Being much younger than his brother had its many disadvantages. Surely, they talked. But it was great to have someone around his age to discuss those things. Ann couldn’t say she fully understood the feeling, though, since she had no siblings. However, she was glad that their friendship made him feel better about it.

From afar, John observed with great amusement how well the two youngest members of the band were building their friendship. Or, as he liked to think of it, their partnership in crime. Together, the duo was like a lovely pair of naughty golden retriever puppies, driving Roger insane with their combined forces for mischief. To be honest, Ann seemed to be considerably more sensible than Rufus. But the boy had the gift of bringing to the surface her lively spirit, which made the old drummer concerned to no end, as then he had to worry about _two_ rascals instead of only one. It served him well.

He watched with careful eyes as his husband artfully molded blonde curls to his liking and wondered for the thousandth time how Ann could look _so much_ like Roger and, yet, _not_ _at all_ at the same time. Had it been their friend in that chair, the old drummer would be moving around all the time and cracking dirty jokes every other minute. A totally opposite scenario was being displayed, though, as the calm girl patiently waited for Freddie to do whatever he wanted with her hair and obediently cooperated every step of the way.

The three of them were in a large dressing room, a few minutes before their show at Madison Square Garden, where the singer, after confidently presenting to the unsuspecting girl a rather familiar outfit, had instructed her to sit tight and let him do the work of getting her ready. The other members of Queen were probably almost done picking their outfits as well in their own rooms and soon they would be marching through the door for a final band meeting.

As John wisely stayed out of Freddie’s way while he _created art_ , in his words, he took the time to ponder about the past few days. They were just a bit shy from completing a full month touring already and he couldn’t help but notice the differences this time around. The bigger of those, of course, being Ann’s presence and the way she had brilliantly fit well with their little gang. It was undeniable that she had had a clear positive impact in their lives. Which, frankly, he was quite thankful for; since he had been dreading what type of people could have joined their band instead. Ann Meyer had been a delightful surprise.

What was truly bothering the bassist, though, was Roger’s odd behavior, especially at the start of the tour. Nowadays, he tended to hide it better, but John hadn’t forgotten how strongly he had reacted to having Ann around at first. It was true that the drummer didn’t like change in that aspect of his routine and, perhaps, that could have been the cause for his mood swings and grumpy outbursts. Or, even, that could be attributed to being in close quarters to Brian all over again.

John wasn’t an idiot. He knew there was something there. Something that wasn’t his business and that Roger had always made sure to evade from as often as possible. He knew better than to try and pry it with obvious intent. Whenever his friend wanted to talk about it, he would be there to listen. It was better not to open that box for the time being. However, he couldn’t ignore anymore how ridiculously affectionate the older man had been acting towards their new guitarist. Honestly, if John didn’t know better, he would have bet that Roger was trying to adopt the girl himself. That wasn’t _normal_.

Then, of course, there was the sheer fact that she looked like a carbon copy of him who had been blessed with good sense and a much cooler temperament. Perhaps, that was why it was so easy to compare her to Brian. That, or because she had legs that would go on _forever_. There was no denying, though, especially after Rufus came around, how eerily similar she was to Roger. Standing side by side, the young musicians _clearly_ looked related and that had been bugging John more than he cared to admit.

Roger _had_ to at least be suspicious. With the amount of people he dated back in the day, it wasn’t impossible that he impregnated someone accidentally. In fact, that possibility was so ridiculously probable, that the bassist didn’t know how his friend hadn’t pursued a DNA test yet. Had he been in his shoes, John would have wanted to know _immediately_. Especially considering how wonderful the young girl seemed to be. If she were _his_ kid, he certainly would have been incredibly proud.

As Freddie _finally_ allowed her to stand up, John almost chuckled with her playful pirouettes in front of the mirror. How in the universe she had allowed his insane husband to fit her into an extremely short black skirt and tiny white button up was a bloody mystery to him. Surely, she looked good. But the look screamed _naughty girl_ from a mile away and not a single fan of Queen would miss that reference. If they thought that she looked like Roger before, now they would be _certain_. Hell, Lola, his youngest daughter, couldn’t have looked more like him even if she tried.

“What in the bloody hell are you wearing, missy?” Came the sharp voice of Rufus and John wasn’t surprised at all to find him at the doorway with both hands angrily perched on his hips. The boy had become incredibly protective of her on the past few weeks, just like he was with his little sisters. “There’s no way you’re going out there dressed like that.”

“Excuse me, Mr. I-Drum-Shirtless, I didn’t know I needed your _permission_.” Ann firmly replied as she crossed her arms and raised a challenging eyebrow at him.

Until a minute ago, she was having lots of fun as she admired Freddie’s work of her hair and his outfit of choice. It was quite different of what she usually wore, being a huge fan of jeans and tank tops as she was. Naturally, she would never wear it in a normal occasion, but, for a performance as theatrical as Queen usually gave, she found the look quite fitting and it sounded like she would have a great time with it.

Then, of course, Rufus had to come spoil her fun. She knew exactly from where his behavior was coming and a tiny part of her felt thankful for it. Yet, his protective outburst was completely unnecessary and, quite honestly, a bit annoying. Certainly, he had to know better than to be that much of an ass. She was sure that Roger had raised him better than that.

“You _know_ what those people have been posting all over your pictures. It’s not _flattering_ , Ann! It’s almost _harassment._ Then you go and dress like _that_?” Rufus spoke with an almost pleading tone, hands flying in the air as he wildly gestured to emphasis his words.

Ann had to take a deep breath in order not to throw a hairbrush at him. That boy seriously had been gifted with making her want to start catapulting random objects at him sometimes. With her control nearly slipping through her fingertips, she walked slowly in his direction, fists trembling by her side. Not only he had assumed she was a defenseless flower, which he didn’t dare to do with Tigerlilly or Lola anymore, but he also had brought up a subject she had _specifically_ asked him not to mention in front of the others. _Damn_ Taylor and his big mouth.

Ignoring Freddie and John’s concerned questions about the content of the aforementioned messages, the young guitarist finally approached her friend and without a second though pressed a finger to his chest as she spoke in a lower tone. “You listen to me very carefully, Ruf.”

She observed with satisfaction as he gulped and his wide blue eyes gaped at her equally bright narrowed ones. With her heals, they were practically the same height and she had no problem staring him down as she continued. “I know I’m sweet and would choose to stay out of a fight whenever possible. But you will catch me _dead_ before I allow those stupid comments to dictate how I live my life.” She said with a serious tone and carried on as if scolding a misbehaving child. “What I choose to dress doesn’t make me guilty of _anything_. _They_ are the assholes. And if you think I’ll hide and bow my head, then you don’t know me at all. Got it?”

Rufus opened his mouth, as if he was about to argue and then closed it again. In a heartbeat, he had both arms gently wrapped around her waist and his head sheepishly resting on her shoulder as he muttered a soft apology on her ear. As of lately, he had been acting extremely protective of her. She knew he intended well. Especially after he had to actually remove a fella’s hand from her ass the other night at a club. That hadn’t been pretty and she was glad that the incident hadn’t reached the boy’s ears or the thing would have become a massive argument.

She didn’t want to feel vulnerable. She shouldn’t _have_ to. Just because she was a girl in a rock band, it didn’t mean that people could go to her posts and direct message her about the things they wanted to do up her skirt. To be fair, the boys also received their fair amount of it, which was many levels of wrong as well. There wasn’t a problem with the fans fantasizing about them. She had done it with some celebrities as well. No harm in there. But actually _telling_ them in explicit detail? That was just uncalled for. By Rufus reaction upon seeing those, though, Ann was almost sure that she was getting the worst end of it.

However, she would be damned if she let those comments interfere with her life. She might not have Rufus’ confidence and muscles to put people back in their places, but she surely wouldn’t hide herself or do anything different about her routine. She wasn’t doing anything wrong and if she wanted to go up to that stage in bloody bikinis, she _fucking_ would. Anybody else could bite her arse. They didn’t seem to have any trouble with telling her they would literally do just that, anyway. Serves them well.

‘Oh, dear. I had no idea you were getting those nasty messages too.” Freddie muttered worriedly and let himself fall on John’s lap, who had an equally worried frown on his face. “Would you like me to say something to the fans?”

“No, honey. It’s fine. I mean, it’s annoying and disrespectful, but I can handle it.” She replied softly and gently patted Rufus back as he disentangled his arms from her, giving him a stern but much kinder look than before.

“I think it’s very brave of you to carry on. I certainly don’t have the energy for social media nor people’s nonsense.” John offered as he fondly rubbed Freddie’s thigh.

“Sometimes, I don’t either. But most of my followers are awesome. Don’t worry.” Ann agreed and tiredly walked to a nearby empty sofa. Arguments left her seriously drained. Luckily, her personal teddy bear followed her shortly and, even if she was still a bit annoyed at him, she took full advantage of his comfortable shoulder to let her head rest for a bit before she added. “Don’t tell Roger, though. I think he would flip.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, darling.” Freddie hummed as he pensively looked at her. “I’m certain he would be worried out of his mind, since he also heard quite a lot of unsolicited comments about him back in the day. But it’s _Brian_ you should be worried about.”

“Oh, yes.” John rapidly agreed as he nodded his head and scrunched his nose as if remembering unpleasant memories. “He used to become _murderous_ whenever someone harassed Rog. Bloody scary, if you ask me.”

Ann thought about that for a second and found out that she could totally picture it happening. Even these days, it was clear to see how annoyed the older guitarist would get when someone blatantly flirted with Roger, which would go completely unnoticed by the drummer. It was rather sweet, actually. Hadn’t she not know better, she would probably have guessed that the two were in a loving relationship just like John and Freddie, given how often they would make heart eyes at each other, whenever they thought no one was looking.

Just as she was thinking of it, both walked through the door adorably giggling about God knows what. Roger had his cheeks bright red and Brian had the silliest look in his eyes. That put a smile in Ann’s face. It was always nice to see those two interacting. Even their small fights were incredibly amusing to watch and she came to find out that John made an excellent narrator to them, as if they were in a soap opera. Bless him, for she never had laughed harder in her life.

“Bloody hell. Freddie Fucking Mercury, you _didn’t_.” Roger nearly grunted as he pointedly stared at the guitarist’s outfit and turned accusingly to his friend.

“I very much did, darling.” Freddie spoke proudly and grinned widely at him. “And the fans are going to _love_ it.”

Roger wasn’t concerned about the fans loving it or not. The idea itself would be rather amusing, if, of course, he wasn’t trying his damn best to keep his secrets _secret_ , for a while longer. Hell, maybe he should just announce on live TV that he was her dad, instead. Because if that homage to the Rogerina outfit didn’t give him away, he honestly didn’t know what would. As if their fans needed more fuel to that bloody conspiracy of theirs.

He was struggling on how to come up with a decent excuse as to why dressing her like that was a terrible decision when a roadie came in with the announcement that someone was there to see them. That startled him for a second, until he remembered that Ann’s _aunt_ , of all people, was visiting the city and the young girl had asked them _pretty please_ if she could be granted access to the backstage. Which, naturally, wasn’t a problem at all.

In fact, Roger had been _dying_ to actually meet someone from her life. He was nervous as fuck, obviously. But he also desperately wanted to know which type of people had had an influence in his daughter’s life. It was a natural curiosity. He came to the point that he was _craving_ for more information so he could actually get a positive confirmation. Perhaps, the aunt could be of some help in giving him some details about her adoption if he asked for them smoothly enough.

He had tried calling Carol multiple times. She had been the one to help him all those years ago to arrange Harry’s adoption and naturally she knew to whom his baby girl was given. Hell, the lawyer had held his sweaty hand during birth, as he cursed Brian’s name seven generations back and a bit more. He knew that she had the answers. Roger just needed to find a way to get a hold of her, but she had gone AWOL on him and he had no clue on how on Earth he would locate her.

Which was why he nearly had a heart attack when the one and only Carol Davis stepped inside the dressing room, with her perfectly aligned grey hair bouncing as she walked and kind green eyes immediately spotting the guitarist on the sofa. For a second, he was entirely speechless and as he was about to express his surprise, the bubbly blonde girl jumped in her arms in a loving hug and Roger’s world turned completely upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about hushing things. But, surprise!!
> 
> Next chapter, we will see how Carol fits in Ann’ life and how the boys will react to her. Also, if I can pull it off, we will have more Maylor moments. Let’s see. As my own aunt says, “it’s all very strange”. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Your comments and kudos mean the world to me. Truly, thank you for all of your support. <33333333333333333
> 
> Lots of love!!  
> Xx


	9. Chapter IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Roger share a quiet moment before the drummer has to deal with important matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I know I keep saying it, but I’m terribly sorry for taking such a long time to update. Easter really put an extra delay to things around here. Sorry!! 
> 
> Thank you so much for all of you feedback and awesome comments! You guys are amazing and your support is extremely important to me. 
> 
> This chapter is full of developments. I feel like I’m hushing a bit, but I can’t help it. My other work truly left me traumatized. I’m determined to keep this one in a decent length. 
> 
> Once again, many thanks to my baby sister, for her beta work, infinite patience and support. Love you, sis. <3
> 
> I believe no major warnings apply to this chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

Overall, Brian thought that last night’s performance was pretty successful. Between their amazing crowd and Freddie’s ever present stage charisma, the guitarist could affirm with certainty that their show had been one of the best yet from the tour so far. The little stunt the singer had pulled by dressing up Ann like a scarily convincing copy of Rogerina was only the cherry on top.

Queen’s fans went absolutely _wild_ when they saw her outfit, as he purposefully allowed her to play in his place during _I Want to Break Free_ just for the kick of it. His wrist could have handled it for a bit longer, be he figured that it was too good of an opportunity to pass. If the comments on the picture he posted after the show was any indicative, the internet agreed wholeheartedly with him. That little idea really seemed to have stirred something in social medias and Brian thought that the whole thing was actually quite funny.

Naturally, he hadn’t had the time yet to read everything or properly search for what the fans were cooking up in their blogs. Nor he knew if he actually wanted to. But for the look of it, they were already coming up with the most creative theories to explain Ann’s uncanny resemblance with their favorite drummer. In fact, even if the astrophysicist didn’t actually believe in the existence of alien doppelgangers until proven otherwise, he couldn’t deny the fact that she did look rather similar to Roger to a ridiculous extent. 

Barely breathing in order not to move his body much, Brian glanced down to the warm body slightly pressed to his side and almost failed in his mission of staying still. With his glasses nearly falling from the tip of his nose, soft snoring sounds coming from his parted pink lips and thick fingers firmly gripping the hem of Brian’s shirt, Roger still looked very much asleep like he was a few minutes ago. The sight of him so peacefully sleeping never failed to bring a smile to the guitarist’s lips. However, it was the confident speech from his friend, not an hour earlier, about not being tired that made him chuckle at the position they were in.

It had been his idea to invite Roger to watch a movie in his bedroom after they all had breakfast. The drummer had grumpily agreed, but they were not even ten minutes into it before his blue eyes started to close by their own accord. When Brian had suggested that he should rest, he was met with strong deniability as his friend took it as a personal dare to remain awake. Usually, he would not have minded such a silly challenge, but being an insomniac himself, he could definitely tell that Roger had spent a good part of the night, if not all of it, without sleeping. Therefore, excuse him if he cheated a bit and discreetly moved his body to a cuddling position in order to make it easier for his stubborn friend to catch some well-deserved rest.

It worked like a charm and Roger had been asleep on his shoulder for a good while as he tried his best not to stir him awake with a harsh movement. To be honest, he was enjoying quite a lot having the drummer so close to him. Even if he was doomed to feel a bit guilty after he left. Brian couldn’t help it. After so many years of keeping his feelings for himself, it was too hard to resist moments like that, when he could unashamedly stare at his gorgeous face and nearly melt as he realized that he knew every single one of his lines by heart and all the stories behind them.

He and Roger had been friends since _forever_. It was quite difficult to imagine what his life would look like without his loyal, loud and dearest friend. He could easier picture the solar system without the sun. They were in tune and more often than not, Brian could tell straight away when something was bothering the drummer, as it had been the case last night. Not that he expected Roger to actually _talk_ about it, for heavens knew that the man would close himself so tightly sometimes that not even the astrophysicist could pry away the reason of his distress. But he hoped to at least get his mind out of it as he always had aimed to do in the past.

Perhaps it was something that Ann and Rufus had done lately. The duo was a match made in hell when it came to mischief and he was sure those blond rascals would be responsible for the new strands of white hair on their heads. Roger certainly worried night and day about what possible shenanigans the two could come up with and Brian thought it was incredibly well deserved. That was certainly life’s way of making the old drummer pay for all the headaches he put others through during their lives.

On the other hand, there was always the possibility that he had known Ms. Davis more than what he let on last night. Clearly, he had looked as pale as a ghost as Ann introduced her Aunt Carol to the band and shakily murmured that they had met a long time ago. In all honesty, Brian was trying not to think too much about what the hell that could have implied. The last thing they needed was for the aunt of their new guitarist to have been one of Roger’s conquests back in the day. Also, she seemed to be a pretty interesting lady to be around and he wasn’t inclined to have that mental picture in his head. His heart had suffered enough already, thank you very much.

Whatever it was, he only hoped that the drummer would find a way to get some peace. If he wanted, by a miracle, to talk about it, Brian would be there in a heartbeat to listen about it and give his advice to the best of his ability. For now, he was content with the fact that Roger felt safe enough to fall asleep so calmly in his presence. If he wasn’t ready to open up, at least the guitarist could offer him some comfort, in whichever way possible. If that meant sitting as a statue just watching him taking even breaths and adorably snoring on his shoulder, so be it.

When Roger woke up nearly three hours later to a smugly smiling Brian and a completely different movie on TV, he didn’t even had to look at the clock to figure out he had slept like a bloody princess all morning. In fact, had he not been so comfortably pressed against the infuriating guitarist, he would probably have wiped that annoying grin out of his face with a well-aimed pillow. Instead, he resigned himself to simply mutter that he had been only resting his eyes and pointedly chose to ignore the chuckle he got as a reply. If his fingers _accidentally_ pinched the soft side of Brian’s belly, that had nothing to do with the matter, of course.

Many years ago, Roger was sure that he would have thrown at least a couple of tantrums and a few pouts for having lost the silly challenge he had imposed on himself. Not to mention, the absolute hell he would have given Brian, because there was no way that the sly bastard hadn’t cheated with his damn warm cuddles. Maybe old age was making him soft. However, that morning specifically, he had too much going on in his head to care about something as simple as friendly banter.

Last night was a fucking rollercoaster of feelings that he, most certainly, had _not_ subscribed himself to. Seeing his daughter in that telling outfit already had been enough to nearly give him a heart attack. But his friend’s surprising visit definitely had shaken him the most. From the moment she walked through the door until Ann introduced her as bloody _Aunt_ Carol, of all things, he knew that he was in for a mental collapse or, at the very least, a lost night of sleep. The nail on the coffin was the unsettling text he received shortly before midnight from her, inviting him to lunch so they could _talk_.

He wasn’t ready for that.

In spite of craving for concrete proof more than anything else, now that she was actually _here_ , he wasn’t sure that he could deal with it. Not after the way she had showed up and, specially, after _his_ daughter had looked at her with so much adoration that Roger couldn’t decide if he wanted to strangle the old lawyer or shake her like a tree until all information fell from her lips. Because, sure as hell, Carol Davis had a lot to tell him and his heart spent the night doing pirouettes in his chest with the prospect of what she would say.

By the time he left Brian’s room with the vague excuse of having to deal with some business, Roger felt like the dirtier man walking on Earth all over again. After all, it wasn’t the first time that he had left the guitarist behind, completely in the dark, as he ran to Carol with all his secrets and bad decisions. In fact, he felt so bad, that he barely made it to his room to get ready and then out of it to meet the lawyer in a discreet café at the address she had texted him last night.

Normally, he wouldn’t have blindly trusted something like this, coming from someone he hadn’t talked to in _years_. But this was Carol Davis. She was one of the most trustworthy people he had ever known. If he had trusted her with his most precious treasure, there was very little he wouldn’t do for her. Sneaking off to secluded locations in the middle of the day included.

With a greatest amount of trepidation than what he had felt in _decades_ , he carefully entered the café and, sure as death, she had been already waiting for him. Like a perfectly composed statue, she sat stiffly on a booth at the very back of the room, not a single hair out of place. As she saw Roger approaching, she faced him with a small smile and green eyes heavy with unsaid emotions. For a moment, the drummer was unsure on how to greet her and, as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and bit his lower lip, in the end, he opted for sitting right across from her.

“Thank you for coming, Rog.” She started with a soft tone and a small sigh as impossibly blue eyes stared sharply at her. “I imagine you have a couple of questions.”

“A couple thousands, I’d say.” Roger snorted and nervously rubbed the bridge of his nose for a second. Now that he was finally there, he realized his patience was rather on the short side. “Care to explain last night?”

Carol sighed heavily again and shifted uncomfortably on her seat as she swirled the remains of her coffee inside of the delicate looking cup. She stared at the dark beverage for a minute before she looked up to meet his eyes once more. Had it been any other circumstance, Roger would probably be comforting his friend, who clearly was under some stress. But he felt rather disinclined to do it at the moment. His own nerves were seconds away of giving him a headache and, frankly, he was in no position to be of any help to anyone. It was all too much.

“I suppose you already figured who she is, then.” She offered with a defeated tone and resignedly crossed her hands on the tabletop as she waited for confirmation.  

Roger needed an instant to absorb with she had just said. He had _known_. How could he not? There was too much evidence to be ignored and just the fact that Carol was there should be already enough confirmation to him. Not to mention, his intense gut feeling telling him without a doubt that she was _his_. Yet, upon _actually_ hearing the words, he needed a pause to collect his feelings or he would have a bloody meltdown in the middle of that café.

Ann was his _daughter_. That bright, intelligent and formidable young lady was his baby girl and he could already feel his heart swelling with pride and joy. He had been holding back his emotions for the past weeks, afraid of being wrong. However, it felt as if a dam had collapsed in his chest as he finally allowed all the love he had for her reign free. From his old memories of tiny fingers, curious blue eyes and the cutest toothless smile ever to the fresh ones of soft golden curls, funny comments and one of the kindest hearts he had ever seen, he couldn’t help himself but love her with all his heart.

Good Lord. Brian was going to _kill_ him.

“Yes.” He managed to speak between gritted teeth as he fought to keep his tears at bay.

“Ella and Liam were good friends of mine since a long time. We were neighbors, actually.” Carol started carefully, hands tightly grasping each other. “They always wanted a child, but it wasn’t possible for them. I won’t go into details. This is her story to tell, if you two ever have the chance to talk. But the point is that they had infinite love to give and that’s what you wanted for Harry.”

Roger listened attentively to every word and he could feel his heart clenching with each passing second. At the mention of the nickname he hadn’t spoken in _years_ , the air almost escaped him completely, but he forced himself to keep a neutral expression and nodded for her to go on. If she saw through his mask, she only offered him a kind look before continuing.

“After Liam passed away and Ella wanted to move back to England, I helped her. In fact, I moved back with her only a few years later.” She explained and stared at her hands, eyes going unfocused for a minute, as if she was recalling past events. “I received a good job opportunity and I wanted to keep an eye on them. They are very important to me. I practically saw Ann grow up over the years. Birthdays, recitals, science fairs, graduation. I was there for it all.”

At that, the drummer felt his veins burning with jealousy and rage. Because he had missed it. Every single step of her life, big or small. He had missed all of it. “You never told me.” He said sharply, accusation clear in his tone.

“You never _asked_.” Came the quick reply and Roger had to close his fists. To punch the table or to contain his anger, he didn’t know.

“And you know damn well why!” He fumed and thanked God that the place as nearly empty, as he knew his temper was getting the best out of him.

“I do.” Carol conceded with a soft tone, but her eyes remained guarded, as if she was just waiting for his outburst. “It was an impossible situation, Rog. I’m not judging you. All I ask is that you return the favor. I did what you requested. I found her a home, someone who loves her to pieces and I cared for her. I couldn’t just abandon your kid.”

“Like I did? Is that what are you saying?” Roger hissed, his knuckles turning white as his eyes filled with unwanted tears.

“You didn’t _abandon_ her, Roger. For Christ sake. You did what you could under terrible circumstances.” She spoke sternly and then softened her tone again as she got a glimpse of shining tears in heartbroken blue eyes. “She had a good life, my friend. I promise you that.”

Roger took a deep breath and brought up a hand to harshly rub at his eyes, in the hopes of vanishing with the evidence of his crying as he tried to collect his thoughts. He could still feel anger boiling under his skin, but he knew it wasn’t directed at Carol. He was mad at _himself_. Angry for his terrible choices, for not being there. Mad at Brian, for putting him in that predicament to begin with and not even having the decency of _remembering_ it. Mad at the world, for watching his every move and forcing his hand. However, lashing out on his friend wouldn’t be helpful not fair. For, as she said, Carol had only done what he had asked.

“Does she know anything?” He found himself wondering out loud and she shook her head in response.

“She always wanted to meet her parents, but she hasn’t got a clue.” Carol further added and the drummer nodded at that.

“I trust she had access to her money. Is she doing alright?” Roger asked with genuine curiosity. He hadn’t dared to ask Ann about her finances on the past weeks, but he worried constantly about his daughter getting by. Unlike his other kids, even if she received the same amount as them monthly in a fund, she never received all the gifts he loved to give to them frequently and that killed him.

“Yes to both. However, most of it is untouched.” Carol said with a careful tone and sighed once more as she saw confusion in Roger’s face. “She never lacked anything, as Ella always worked hard to ensure that. Also, after Liam passed away, the insurance money covered for a lot of their expenses. She only took the very necessary for extra activities or birthday presents, like Ann’s guitars and drums.”

“What about _Ann_? It’s her money. She has had access to it for years now, right?” Roger inquired. He understood Ella saving the money for her daughter, but he saw no reason for the young guitarist not to have used it.

“She… She doesn’t want it, Rog.” His friend confessed and sadly looked at him.

“She… doesn’t?” He repeated, his mouth slightly opened as surprise took hold of his body. As he registered what she said, a heavy feeling settled in his heart. “Oh.”

“I think she is the best person to explain how she feels. From what I’ve gathered, she refuses to use it unless it’s extremely necessary.” Carol offered with a tiny smile as she contemplated her now cold coffee. “She is a hardworking kid, who believes you have to earn whatever you want. Ann is a dreamer, with a kind heart and all she ever wanted was to know where she came from. She doesn’t want your money, Rog. She just wants you.”

Roger felt the air being knocked out of his lungs and he had to grab the edge of the table to center himself. His heart _ached_ inside of his chest as he thought about a very serious conversation that he would have to start in the future and all the consequences it would bring to their lives. He couldn’t hold on to that secret any longer. It wasn’t fair and the thought of keeping his lips sealed brought him so much pain that he knew that it just wasn’t a possibility anymore. He would have to come clean and pray that Brian had mercy on him.

With too many decision to be made and heart heavy with worry, Roger said his goodbyes to Carol almost absentmindedly. In the one hand, he would have loved to spend the afternoon there hearing stories about Harriet’s childhood. On the other hand, he knew that it wasn’t the time for it. He hadn’t earned the right to it yet. First, he would have to tell the truth and hope she wouldn’t hate him too much after it. Because that would probably kill him, more than any murder plan Brian might have in storage for him.

With a promise to stay in touch and the unimportant realization that he hadn’t eaten anything at all as his stomach growled, he went to back to the hotel with the intent of hiding in his bedroom until the time of the show, if possible. Meaning, if Brian still wasn’t trying to cheer him up, which he most certainly didn’t deserve. Or, if his troublemakers hadn’t done anything to get him a few steps closer to his grave with worry. Honestly, he couldn’t tell at that point which one was more likely.

However, as he finally got inside of his room, he was caught by surprise. There, perfectly sitting on his bed, reading a book with a pensive semblance, was John Deacon, who barely lifted his eyes as he greeted the drummer before finishing a paragraph and finally looking at him. Sharp, _knowing_ , grey eyes made Roger’s blood run cold in his veins as he realized the reason why his friend had been waiting for him. He knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time.

“I think there’s something we need to talk about, Rog. Have a seat.” John spoke with a deceivingly soft tone. Roger could hear clear as the day the command behind it and understood that there was no escaping now. He was _screwed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re getting there, guys!! John is dead set in getting some answers from Rog. Let’s see how this goes. 
> 
> I’m still figuring things out, but I really want to write some of next chapter under Freddie’s POV. With so many characters, it’s difficult to manage who tells which part of the story. Let’s see. 
> 
> The time is coming for the truth to come out. Hopefully, I’ll manage to keep this under 15 chapters. At least, that’s the plan. I have a few more moments I’d like to write before dropping the bomb, but I haven’t got anything defined yet. Things change in a heartbeat around here. Sorry. ^^”
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I’d love to hear your thoughts on the comments and, if possible, leave a kudo. It truly makes my day. <3333333
> 
> Lots of love!!


	10. Chapter X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a glimpse of Freddie’s perspective before John and Roger have a much needed conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! The chapter is finally here!! Sorry for the wait! 
> 
> In this one, we will start with moments before John went to Roger’s room and then we will have a break, leading to the moment where the last chapter stopped. I hope it’s not confusing.
> 
> Thank you so much for your constant feedback!! You guys are the only reason why I keep writing. Truly, thank you.
> 
> My beloved sister, you rock!! Thanks for all your help and insane lessons!! 
> 
> No major warning applies to this chapter, I think. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Freddie knew something was about to happen from a mile away. Perhaps he had his many decades of experience to thank for it, or his awareness could be credited to John’s strong influence in his life. After all, his husband rarely missed a thing and the singer didn’t even get surprised anymore with his keen eye for detail. Whatever it was, Freddie could feel in his very bones that an invisible elastic was about to snap. That, or his arthritis was being a particular bitch.

“If you continue pacing around, darling, you’ll open a hole on the floor.” He commented with a sigh as he observed John’s nervously walk around their hotel room.

He had already seen the bassist that restless a few times in the past and, usually, the matter provoking his unease was never a reason for celebration. In fact, Freddie was already doing the math of how many painkillers he would need this time to subdue the headache that certainly would come his way. Not that he blamed John for it, of course. It was hardly his fault that he was the first one to notice when something was wrong. After so many years, the singer had already learned to trust him as his personal alarm for troublesome situations.

“Sorry, dear. I can’t help it.” John replied absentmindedly as he muttered quietly to himself until he stopped in the middle of the room. He had a frustrated look in his face and his shoulders were taut with tension. “If Roger would just _cooperate_. He can’t be this blind!”

Freddie sighed once more and blocked the screen of his phone. His Instagram feed wasn’t helping at all with putting his husband at ease. To be honest, if he had known that showing him people’s reactions to Ann’s latest outfit would set him in such a distressed state, he would have ignored them altogether. She had looked so similar to Roger that it was _scary_. Freddie wasn’t an idiot. He could see that much. However, John was _obsessed_ and, apparently, that had been the last straw for him.

For _weeks_ , the bassist had worried his head over it. Even if he didn’t always voice his suspicions, Freddie knew that those thoughts were bothering him. From the side-glances he gave to Roger to the discreet staring he had done towards Ann, John obviously had something cooking in his mind during their whole tour so far. He had commented a few times already about his theory and, honestly, Freddie didn’t quite know how to absorb it.

Surely, it wasn’t impossible that Roger might have gotten a groupie pregnant _decades_ ago. However, the singer was having a hard time seeing that happening when it supposedly did. Their drummer was a loyal man and he had loved Debbie to pieces for the whole time they had been married. He wouldn’t just go and cheat on her with a meaningless girl like that. Roger Taylor might have been a sex machine on their early days, but he certainly wasn’t a cheater. Also, if Freddie had been right, which he usually was, there was only one person his friend had loved so much to the point he would do it. And he was pretty sure no babies would come from that relationship either. They wouldn’t have had hidden something like that from them.

Therefore, he was struggling to believe that Ann was actually related to Roger, as his husband had been so dead set on proving. However, putting her perfect golden curls, shinning blue eyes and naughty smirk aside was a challenging task. Because that girl had managed to look more like Rog than his daughters did. Hell, if you put all of them together, there wouldn’t be a single soul to say they belonged to different families.

“Darling, you need to calm down.” Freddie spoke gently as he carefully approached his husband. He clearly was upset as his green eyes fumed in frustration and his lips were threatening to form an adorable pout. Not that he would point it out, of course. When in those moods, the last thing John Mercury-Deacon wanted was to be called _cute_.

“No. I need _answers_.” He mumbled and reluctantly uncrossed his arms to accept Freddie’s embrace.  

The singer gently wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer for comfort, sweetly running his hands all the way across John’s back as he planted small kisses on his cheeks and lips. He could feel how tense his muscles were and made a mental note to give him a massage later. He knew better than to try to unwind the bassist at that moment. If all those years together had taught him something, was that John wouldn’t rest until he got to the bottom of what was bothering him.

“Then go talk to him, darling.” Freddie offered with a defeated sigh, but trying to keep his tone supportive. He could only hope the drummer would give his husband back in one piece after such an interesting conversation. “You know it’s not our business. But Rog sometimes needs a little push.”

“Do you think she is his daughter too?” John asked with a small voice and turned the sheer power of his gaze to him.

The singer took a moment to give his answer, as his husband’s eyes seemed to look into his very soul. Truth was, he didn’t know. Part of him trembled only imagining how massive that mess would be if John was right and what it meant. Roger would have some serious explanations to give. Yet, his heart fluttered with the idea of adding, officially, such a wonderful girl to their family. Also, he hoped that, even if she was expecting it, Ann would get some peace finally discovering who was her father. That girl deserved to be happy.

“I think she could be, but it’s a slim possibility.” He offered diplomatically and prayed it would be enough to appease the bassist.

“I have to know, Freddie.” John stated in a much more confident tone. Being that close, the singer could see determination shinning in his eyes as his husband quickly pecked his lips and marched to the door.

He observed as John swiftly left the room and a feeling of impending doom installed itself inside of his chest. Biting his lower lip, Freddie tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to convince his brain not to start a headache. Whatever came out of that conversation, he could only pray that it wouldn’t put too much of a strain onto the band. After all, they had a show to pull off tonight and the perspective of being stuck together in a plane tomorrow with his moody bandmates wasn’t appealing at all. Not to mention, of course, the huge impact their lives would suffer if John were right.  

With chills traveling through his spine and heart heavy with concern, the singer decided to go after Rufus and Ann to get his mind out of it. The two were mentioning earlier an idea for an Instagram post involving a bake off and he had volunteered to be the adult supervision. Not that he intended to put a stop to anything they were planning. In fact, he had a few improvements for their stunt. After all, if there were shenanigans bound to happen, Freddie Mercury-Deacon _had_ to be part of it. Amen.

 

…

 

Roger felt like the bloody pastel walls of his hotel room were about to shrink and trap him inside with nowhere to run. Logically, he knew that he could just turn around and ignore his friend altogether, but he was aware that it just wasn’t the best option. If not today, John would just corner him whenever he had the chance, but even more pissed at the drummer’s first escape. There was no point in postponing it, even if all he wanted was a quiet afternoon to collect his thoughts.

Dry swallowing and dreading the line of questions that soon would come in his direction, Roger dropped his coat messily on the dresser and dejectedly allowed his body to fall on the nearest armchair. His fingers were trembling slightly as fear attempted to take over his body. Of all the ways he thought his secret would finally see the light of the day, being put against the wall by John had always been his least favorite one. Well, not really, for there were far worse ways it could come out. But now that it was actually happening, he forgot completely about the alternatives and focused on his near death.

“You don’t look well.” The bassist commented with a frown as he carefully put the book, which turned out to be one of Roger’s, aside. His eyes traveled worriedly over the drummer’s figure, who squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze.

“I look bloody handsome, I’ll have you know.” He sharply replied and crossed his arms to hide his traitor fingers before John could tell how actually nervous he was.

Narrowing his eyes and impatiently clicking his tongue against his teeth, Roger saw the moment that his friend took a deep breath and probably decided against strangling him. If Deaky wanted to have that conversation, he certainly wasn’t obliged to make it easy for him. Holding his breath, he waited as John silently stared at him for almost a minute, as if he were waiting for Roger to start talking under the sheer pressure of his damn green eyes. To be fair, it _had_ worked in the past. But that wouldn’t be the case now. If possible, the drummer would very much drag this secret with him for as long as he could. There were too many things at risk.

“I want you to do a DNA test.” John spoke unexpectedly as he patiently rested his hands on the mattress.

Roger’s eyebrows shot up as he fully absorbed what his friend had just said and he felt his heartbeat accelerating inside of his chest. Schooling his expression to something more neutral, though, he licked his dry lips before speaking. “I beg your pardon?”

“This is getting ridiculous, Roger.” John added, clearly not buying the drummer’s innocence in the matter for a second. “You are one of the cleverest men I know. You have to at least _suspect_ something.”

Gulping and pointedly not looking at his direction, Roger bit the insides of his cheeks for a second before he continued. “I have no idea of what you’re talking about.”

He could hear a small sigh coming from the bed and he didn’t dare to lift his eyes. He knew he would find the disappointed face of his friend waiting for him. Roger didn’t need that. Things were already so damn difficult! He wanted to fix things. He craved for a time machine or another way to repair his mistakes. He ached to run to the room across the hall and kiss Brian as if his life depended on it. He dreamed with holding his baby girl in his arms one more time. It was too much. This secret had consumed a great part of his life and he, honestly, felt like a balloon full of sorrow, a second away from popping.

His shaking had decided to extend from his fingers to the rest of his body. Roger could feel the telltale of his cursed tears burning on the corner of his eyes and he mercilessly sunk his teeth on the insides of his cheeks once more, biting down so hard he felt the metallic taste of blood in his mouth only an instant later. He was angry, sad and so fearful that he barely recognized himself. He wasn’t like that. But he couldn’t punch or argue his way out of this one. He felt _guilty_. The drummer absolutely could do without letting down yet another person.

“That’s the thing, Rog. I think you do.” John muttered worriedly at him and, a second later, warm hands were cupping his face, gently inducing him to look up. He wished he didn’t, though, as green eyes pierced through his bare soul. “Look at me and tell me you don’t think she is yours.”

The bassist waited with trepidation as he softly held Roger’s cheeks with utmost care. His beard felt like silk against his palms and unfairly blue eyes gaped at him with unshed tears. The sight of him was heartbreaking and John felt incredibly harsh for putting him in the hot seat like that. However, he knew there was no other way. Roger was stubborn and so damn _proud_. He thought that he could carry the weight of the world in his shoulders without help and John was _done_ watching him suffer so much for it. Even if facing the facts was painful, it was a necessary step before things could get better.

“Why are you doing this to me?” The drummer brokenly muttered and his will to get the truth faltered at his defeated tone.

“Because you don’t have to do this alone, Rog. Let me help.” He offered in what he hoped to be a comforting voice and his friend weakly wrapped his fingers around his wrists. To draw strength to go on or to beg to be left alone, he didn’t know. Hoping to be making the right choice, he pressed. “Tell me she isn’t yours.”

The tears finally spilled from his eyes and John gently caught them with his thumbs, much as he used to do with his own children all those years ago over scrapped knees and heartbreaks. He knew that look, but the amount of _sadness_ deep within those shinning blue eyes almost had him taking a step back. He had been aware that his friend had been in pain, but not to that extent. With a heavy sigh and a small sob, Roger finally spoke. “She’s mine. You know she is.”

“Oh, Rog…” John lovingly whispered and, before he could think better, he had his arms gently enveloping the crying drummer in a tight hug. The angle was awkward and his back would certainly protest about it in a moment, but he cared little about that. In the front of his mind, his main priority was to comfort his friend no matter how.

Apparently, that had been the right choice. Roger clutched desperately at his shirt as his sobs filled the room. Carefully, John did his best to maneuver his body until he was sitting on the arm of the chair and the drummer’s head was protectively tucked under his chin. One of his hands were running soothing circles over his back while the other gently caressed his silver strands of hair. In his mind, the bassist had about a million questions to ask, but he held his tongue and let his friend let it all out.

Perhaps they stayed like that for an hour or a bit more. For his numb muscles, it certainly felt like forever, but the clock on the wall assured him otherwise. They still had a good amount of time before they had to head out to the arena and, for now, they had anywhere else to be. It wasn’t until Roger slowly let go of his crumpled shirt and shyly cleaned his face, though, that John allowed himself to sit straight to take a good look at his friend.

His eyes were extremely puffy, bright red from the tears, and there was no denying that he had spent a long time crying. He still had a broken expression on his face, but, somehow, he looked a bit better. John had no idea of how bad things were to put him in that state, but it was clear that he needed that time to let his emotions reign free. The bassist felt terrible for pushing him over the edge of that particular cliff, but at least it had served for something.

“Thanks, Deaky.” Roger mumbled and his voice sounded as terrible as John suspected it would.

“Come here, dear.” He gently instructed as he forced his aching body to move from the armchair and carefully dragged the drummer to the bed. They still had a lot to talk about and, as much as John loved him, if he were to start crying again, the bassist would rather have him do it in a much more comfortable position. Before he sat down, though, he quickly fetched a water bottle from the mini fridge and encouraged the drummer to take small sips from it. He had never seen his friend crying so much and, honest to God, he was afraid that he might start to dehydrate from it.

Many things had already been drastically different from how he first had pictured this conversation would go. Surely, he had expected Roger to be angry and flustered. Perhaps embarrassed or fumbling about the whole situation. John had done the math and Freddie had a valid point. After all, if she was his, that _did_ mean that the drummer had cheated on his wife with a random girl and John had no idea of what to do with that confirmation. That wasn’t like Roger at all. Yet, all evidences pointed in that direction. Did Roger get a girl pregnant while on tour in 1992? Was that the reason why he went AWOL in the same year? Had he known this all along? John needed _answers_.

However, the crying had thrown him for a loop. From all the reactions the bassist had predicted, that amount of vulnerable waterworks hadn’t been expected in the slightest. That, more than anything, made him want to learn the truth whenever Roger was ready to start talking. What could possibly have happened to his friend to put him in such a state?

“For how long have you known?” Roger asked tiredly, not quite looking at him and staring at the half-empty water bottle as if it held the secrets of the universe.

“That she is yours? Has been while. The schoolgirl outfit did it, though.” He offered as the side-by-side images Freddie had showed him earlier flashed behind his eyes. Instagram was having a field day with it.

Roger hummed at that and started to roll the bottle from one hand to the other, eyes glued to the motion of the water. “One would have to be blind to miss that. She looks more like me than Ruf does.”

“That, she does.” John agreed wholeheartedly and a tiny part of him felt better for finally not thinking he was crazy for making such comparisons. Gathering his courage, he continued. “How did she _happen_ , Rog?”

“It’s complicated.” Came the small reply and John had to suppress a sigh.

“ _Uncomplicate_ it.” He prompted and ran his hand through his hair. Any hopes of leaving the room without a headache were certainly gone. “Have you always known about her? Was she a surprise?”

“I’ve known.” Roger muttered sheepishly as he laid the bottle on the mattress and leaped out of the bed. For a second, John thought he was going somewhere, but it turned out the drummer just needed to walk around the room, much like himself had done a few hours ago. “I’ve bloody known, okay? Suspected who she was from the minute she stepped foot in that fucking studio.”

“Right. Okay.” John spoke calmly. His thoughts felt like a hurricane of doubts, but he knew that at least one of them had to keep their tempers in check if he wanted this conversation to go anywhere. “So, what? You forgot to mention to your best friends that you had a kid? Forgot she existed? What _happened_?”

Roger turned red at that. His impossible blue eyes burning under that line of questioning as his fists closed next to his sides. “I _never_ forgot her. In fact, I thought about her every second of every cursed day. Don’t talk about what you don’t know.”

“Calm down, Rog.” He said softly, palms lift in surrender. “Tell me about her. Help me understand, my friend. Do you know her mother?”

The drummer sighed and harshly ran his hands over his heated face and through his hair. He was clearly becoming distressed again, but John had no idea of how to help. He could see from the bed his friend’s eyes getting wet once more and Roger tiredly leaned against the dresser, chest nearly touching the surface as his arms supported his weight. “She’s mine.”

“I know, dear.”

“No, you _don’t_.” Roger let out in a small whine through gritted teeth and by the way his shoulders were shaking, the bassist could tell he had started to cry silently again.

“Then explain, Rog.” John pleaded and shut his eyes to will his headache away. At the point, he wasn’t sure if he following the conversation they were having anymore.

“She’s _m-mine_.” The drummer offered brokenly and he looked again at him. Roger had turned around, his back pressed against the dresser as his right hand cupped his lower belly.

John stared at him and tried to make sense of his words, brain cells burning to make the connection he was sure that was right in from of him. Then it _clicked_. Roger’s absence in 1992. The empty shell he was after he came back. How he had been _certain_ she was his all along. His crying from earlier. The _secrecy_ of it all. The realization hit him like a brick wall and the bassist needed a minute to get his head to stop spinning. _Jesus Christ_.

“You were pregnant.” He whispered as he gaped at his best friend as if he was seeing him for the first time. “Oh, God. _Roger_.”

“I don’t need your pity.” The drummer bitterly spoke as he angrily wiped away his tears and pointedly looked the other way.

“Don’t be silly!” John exclaimed before he could measure his voice. In an instant, he was out of the bed and his hands had found their own way to Roger’s shoulder. “Why the fuck didn’t you _tell us_?”

“ _How_ could I have told you this, John? I would have destroyed Queen!” He batted his hands away as he started to nervously pace around the room again. “She would have spent her life with photographers on her trail. Queen would have been _doomed_. Our marriages would be beyond salvation. I _couldn’t_.”

John pressed his hands to his forehead. It was too much information to be absorbed in such little time. He had walked in there prepared to have his theory proven, not to have his world turned upside down. The idea of Roger being the one who had been pregnant hadn’t even _crossed_ his mind. Why would it? It was a minuscule possibility. That changed things _a lot_. Freddie would have a stroke, for sure. And Brian, _Good Lord_ , _Brian_.

John always suspected their guitarist had been in love with the blond since _forever_. He didn’t even want to imagine what those news would do to him. Not only it turned out Roger wasn’t completely straight after all, he had also gotten himself _pregnant_. Honestly, there was only one thing that would make matters worse. But, surely, their drummer wouldn’t have gone that far. The possibility was nearly _unthinkable_.

Yet, something he had said a minute ago made John’s blood run cold in his veins.

_God, let me be wrong_.

“You said _our_ marriages.” The bassist spoke carefully. Inside his chest, his heart was skipping several beats as the terrible thought installed itself in his mind.

“N-No I d-didn’t. _My_. My marriage.” Roger stuttered and John had to sit himself back on the bed. He could smell his friend’s lie from miles away and the drummer _knew it_.

“Oh, God.” He whispered in shock as the unspoken confirmation to his suspicion threatened to give him a heart attack.

“John, _please_.” Roger was next to him in a minute, voice trembling with despair and cheeks wet from his tears. “He doesn’t know. He didn’t even remember we… _Please_.”

“She is Brian’s too, isn’t she?” He asked just to make sure they were all in the same page. Roger’s broken sobs were all the answer he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know!! Sorry for another cliffhanger!! You know I can’t resist them. ^^”
> 
> As I’ve mentioned, it will be only downhill from here, for a while. Now that John finally found out and Roger had confirmation, the boys have to decide what they will do with that information. 
> 
> Hard times are ahead of them.
> 
> Next chapter we will see how John deals with his second discovery and how that will affect the relationship of Queen as a group. Also, I have something inside my head that I don’t know if it will happen still, but let’s see. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Your comments and kudos are very important to me! I appreciate every single one. <333333333
> 
> Lots of love!  
> Xx


	11. Chapter XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger and John finish their conversation. Later, Queen gets ready to enter the stage with a small surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I’m incredibly sorry for taking twice as long to update this work. My apologies. Between work and falling ill, finding the energy to write was a massive challenge. Sorry for the wait! 
> 
> I’m not very happy with this chapter. Words just weren’t coming out right and I don’t know what else I can do. Sometimes, the best alternative is to move on to the next part. Also, I keep finding mistakes as I reread. My brain feels like mush at this point. But I didn’t want to keep you guys waiting any longer. So, please, ignore bad grammar and typos if you see them. ^^” 
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience and amazing support! @marveltrwsh, you’re awesome! Thanks for all the help, sis! 
> 
> I believe no major warnings apply to this chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy!

A deafening silence permeated the room, its heaviness almost suffocating after so many words had been said in the past hour. Roger felt positively exhausted. He was pretty sure that his brain had melted at some point and his whole body ached with tension. Honestly, he was so tired that a feather could knock him down.

The empty glass of whiskey between his fingers was somewhat grounding and he was half convinced to pour himself another one. The drummer wasn’t quite certain about when exactly they had switched from water to something stronger, but the burning sensation of the alcohol in his throat had helped a bit with getting his voice going. After he had started, though, he couldn’t stop. Finally telling another person about his secret felt _cathartic_. Words had come pouring out of his mouth as fast as his tears ran down his cheeks and he confessed everything that happened all those years ago.

John had listened to it with an unreadable expression on his face, sitting completely still for the whole thing. His lips were a thin line and his eyes, which narrowed and gaped as the story went, were the only source of confirmation that the bassist was responsive at all. As Roger continued, he felt all energy he still had left leaving his body with each passing second, as if he was being drained word by word until he tiredly fell limp on the bed. The frame was digging uncomfortably on his back, but he didn’t have the courage to move in order to adjust the pillows. His arms seemed to weight _tons_ and moving even an inch would be a herculean feat.

“Say something, please.” Roger muttered tentatively. His voice was raspier than he had expected and his tone couldn’t have sounded more defeated. But the silence was driving him insane.

“I don’t know _what_ can be said. I’m still processing it.” John replied almost absentmindedly. His shoulders were pulled taut and he had hardly moved from his spot by the end of the bed. His own empty glass neatly resting by his side. Not that the bassist supported the idea of starting to drink that early. But the situation at hand required a bit of anesthesia if he wanted to keep his brain from imploding.

Roger’s voice, trembling and vulnerable, still echoed in his mind as he recalled everything the drummer had said. Every word felt like a punch right to his guts, as he had to listen his friend describing such a painfully impossible situation and the hard choices he had to make. All those years Roger had kept such _massive_ information from them and the bassist didn’t know if he wanted to cuddle him and promise everything would be okay or if he wanted to strangle the living daylights out of his thick skull. _Why in the universe hadn’t he asked for help?_

His reasoning had somewhat made sense. John agreed that their marriages would have been beyond salvation once Debbie and Anita found out about the baby. For different reasons, though, the bassist suspected. But that was something to worry about at a different time. He also could see how the media would feast upon hearing those news and the whole thing would certainly become a circus. Heavens know what might have happened to Queen amidst such chaos. That was a fair point. Yet, Roger shouldn’t have gone through it all alone. They were friends. No, more than that. They were _family_. Whatever had been the outcome, they should have faced it _together_.

Then, there was Brian. _Good Lord_. John wasn’t sure when the guitarist had had his last medical check-up, but he hoped it hadn’t been too long ago. Because his friend was certainly going to have a heart attack. Finding out nearly three decades later that he had a daughter surely was going to make a number on the poor astrophysicist. Not only that, but John knew that his friend already had a special spot in his heart for Ann. To find out that she was his kid would absolutely shake his world.

If what Roger had said was true, the guitarist had no memory whatsoever of their _encounter_. John was more than convinced that Brian is going to be _crushed_ once he learns that his best friend kept their baby hidden from him for so long. God, that won’t be pretty. How on Earth John finds himself dealing with these situations was a mystery to him. What is he going to _do_ now that he has this information? He can’t just _sit on it_ and pretend he never heard a thing. However, it is not his secret to tell.

Forget cuddling. He is definitely strangling Roger after this one.

“Well, when you will be telling Brian?” He asked firmly as he got up with the intent of returning the glass to its tray. His body vehemently protested the action, after being in the same position for so long.

“You can’t tell him!” Roger hissed as he sat himself straight. The grimace in his face clearly indicating the poor state of his muscles as well.

“Oh, _I_ won’t.” John bitterly agreed as he tiredly placed the glass on its place, perhaps with less grace than usually. He, honestly, felt as if he was scolding a misbehaving child. “This is _your_ mess and, God help me, you’re going to clean it.”

“I knew you would be mad.” The drummer muttered, slightly angry, as he slammed his own glass on the nightstand. “What could I have _done_ , Deaky? I chose to have her and I don’t regret it a single bit!”

“Don’t do this. Ann isn’t, and could never be, the problem.” He spoke softly. Even if John wanted to smack the hell out of his friend, he could see that the old man was hurting. “You should have told us, Rog. We would have dealt with it together. But you _didn’t_. That’s why I’m mad.”

“You don’t understand.” Roger sighed as he moved to get up as well, but his legs were shaking with tension. His feet were barely touching the floor and, honestly, he didn’t have the energy to move any further. His heart was heavy inside of his chest, leaking sadness to the rest of his body. Not daring to face John, he chose to stare at his callused hands instead. “I couldn’t make myself hear Brian saying she would ruin his life. She was my baby, John. How would you feel if someone you loved wanted you to get rid of one of your children?”

The bassist gasped at that as he took in the completely heartbroken look on Roger’s face. His words sounded like an old poison that had been torturing his mind since _forever_ and John didn’t need more than a second to realize that his friend truly believed in what he was saying. It was clear that the drummer firmly believed that Brian would have wanted nothing to do with their child or that he would resent her. How in the universe he had reached the conclusion that _Brian Harold May_ , who loved his kids and being a father more than anything, could ever think that? Hell, if John’s suspicions were correct, Brian would have been _thrilled_ after learning that Roger, of all people, was carrying his baby.

“Rog… Brian would never. You have to know that.” He tried to reason. Carefully walking towards the bed, the bassist silently sad next to his friend and gently rested his hand on his back. “This is a conversation you must have with him. But I’m certain that he will tell you just the same.”

“You can’t know that for sure.” Roger brokenly stated. His voice was a mixture of sadness, anger and so much exhaustion that John nearly made him lay down for a nap.

“I’m aware of many things, Rog. You should know that by now.” The bassist offered wisely, as he patted the taut shoulder under his palm.

Silence fell again in the room, but it lost the sharp edge it had from before. The faint noise of the busy avenue outside and the odd sign of someone walking past the door were the only sounds reaching their ears beside their even breaths. John had no idea for how long they had stayed like that. Perhaps only a couple of minutes. His head was too full with different scenarios to pay attention to the time. Roger didn’t seem to be in a more attentive state either. If anything, the drummer looked ready to sleep for, at least, half of the day. But that would have to wait. After all, they still had a concert to play.

“I won’t say a word to Brian, dear. But we will talk more about this later.” John assured him and the drummer quietly nodded his head. Sighing, he gathered his forces to get up from the bed. If one of his bones cracked on the process, he barely registered. “We have to be at the arena in a couple of hours. I’ll get ready, then I’ll come back to check on you, alright?”

“Thank you, Deaky. For everything.” Roger spoke with a small voice. His unfairly blue eyes shining sadly with unspoken gratitude.

With a kind nod and a gentle smile, John silently made his way out of the bedroom and pensively walked across the hall to enter the room he shared with his husband. In the front of his mind was only the thought of a hot bath to help with his tired muscles. He would need it if he had any hopes of playing decently tonight. It would also buy him time, because he had no idea of what the hell he was going to tell Freddie.

He knew that it wasn’t fair to hide news like that from him and he also didn’t feel like lying, since the singer already knew that he had confronted Roger about his suspicions. Yet, John was pretty damn sure that his lovely husband was ultimately incapable of keeping a secret like that without imploding. Either he would give it straight away to anyone who applied the minimal pressure on him or he would have a stroke trying to hold his tongue. Whichever the options happened, the bassist wasn’t quite pleased with their outcome. Not enough to risk sharing the secret with him for now, at least.

Luckily, though, by the time he exited the bathroom and deemed himself relaxed enough to play without making a fool of himself, a blessed text had been waiting for him on his phone. For some reason, involving an extra pair of pleated skirts and something about wig hunting, Freddie decided to meet them at the arena instead and he would be taking “ _the kids_ ” with him. In a normal day, that text alone would have been enough to put John in state of maximum alertness. At that moment, though, he could only feel grateful for having that extra time to come up with _something_ to tell his husband. All shenanigans forgiven. Hell, he would even allow the mischievous trio to set fire to something _again_ if that meant not being in that position.

Sighing and schooling his face to an expression that didn’t immediately express his internal despair and general panic, he headed back to Roger’s room in order to fetch him, then Brian, so they could go meet the others. He knew that he would have to be strong for, if _he_ was feeling that lost, he didn’t even want to imagine how the drummer must be feeling. After all, it was his secret to tell and the whole thing was getting closer and closer to blowing right on his face. As his friend liked to say, the proverbial shit was about to hit the cursed fan. _Good Lord_.

Thankfully, Roger was already dressed and ready to go by the time John knocked on his door. At first glance, he seemed perfectly composed. But the bassist could see how his impossibly blue eye were slightly red and puffy from the earlier crying and an invisible heavy weight was placed on his shoulders. How many times the drummer had to pull himself together in the past, when it was clear how much he was suffering? Probably more than John had realized and that newfound knowledge felt like a stab through his heart.

“Did you tell Freddie?” Roger asked with a serious voice, going straight to the point. He had a frown on his face, as if wondering why his over-caring friend hadn’t loudly barged into his room yet to demand further explanations.

“I haven’t seen him. He took the kids to the arena already. I was too afraid to ask why.” The bassist offered with a shrug and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t even know _what_ I’m going to tell him.”

“Tell him I told you to fuck off.” He replied with a grunt as he closed the door behind him and John sighed once more. “What? He’ll buy that.”

“For how long do you plan on not telling people? I mean… She is the spitting image of you, Rog, but with _Brian_ written all over her. Come on.” John argued and crossed his arms. The action threw him a little bit off balance as they walked towards their friend’s room. But it was either that or smacking some sense into Roger.

“I just confirmed today that she is mine. Give me at least a night of sleep, mate.” The drummer tiredly spoke, voice still raspier than usual.

“Well, if you kept quiet this long… We only have one more day here after tonight's show. Then we finish the American leg of the tour and have a small break back in England. Perhaps it would be wiser to wait until then.” John pensively suggested. The thought had occurred to him whilst he was in the bath and maybe that would be the best solution. If they were to have major drama happening in their lives, he preferred that all hell broke loose on British soil, thank you very much.

“You’re probably right.” Roger agreed and took a deep breath. The bassist could see some signs of his exhaustion even through the armor of normality his friend was trying to sustain.

“I usually am. Just do me a favor and don’t do it on the plane. Sharing a car with you and Brian tonight will be awkward enough.” He spoke with no real bite behind his words as they reached the guitarist’s door and Roger snorted at him.

“Welcome to the club.” The drummer grinned as he knocked and the familiar sight made John feel somewhat more at ease. Perhaps, things were going to be fine after all.

 

…

 

Things were _not_ fine.

In fact, Roger felt as close to a panic attack as anyone could get without _actually_ going down that path. His heart was racing inside of his chest as his mind worked in a thousand different thoughts in a second once he registered what was going on. Whichever divine force was interfering with his life that day, it was clear that the bitch was in a terrible mood. Not only he had to make through incredibly emotional moments earlier that day, but he also found himself stuck in a car for half an hour, thanks to traffic, with a completely oblivious Brian and a rather judgmental Deaky.

The guitarist spent most of the drive praising Ann’s skills and talking about how he would like to give her a chance to play in certain songs. Every word leaving his mouth was challenging Roger’s will to keep quiet. Not that he particularly _wanted_ to break the news to Brian anytime soon. However, hearing so much love and care in his voice every time he mentioned their daughter felt like _torture_ and the drummer ached to get that weight out of his chest. Next to him, Deaky kept rolling his eyes whenever Roger agreed with Brian’s assessments and the drummer was two breaths away from stopping the car and walking all the way there just so he could have room to _breathe_.

However, somehow, he made it to the back entrance of the arena and past the few paparazzi standing in their way. In his head, he kept telling himself that he only had to force his body to work for a few more hours before he could collapse and sleep like the dead until the time to catch their airplane came. Between his insomnia from the other night and everything he had to endure today, it was a miracle that he was still standing and his brain hadn’t turned into a pile of mush. He only had to last until the end of the concert. That was all. Nothing new. He had done it a thousand times.

What he _hadn’t_ anticipated in the slightest was the latest stunt Freddie and his troublemakers had decided to pull. As soon as they reached their dressing room, though, all air left his lungs in a strangled gasp. By his side, Brian and John seemed to be equally shocked and that made things even worse, since it instantaneously eliminated the possibility of it all being a trick of his mind. Bloody hell. At that point, he was even hoping the sight in front of him was a mere collective hallucination. He had no such luck, though.

Grinning like the cat who stole the cream, Freddie was taking what looked like a thousand goddamn pictures of Rufus and Ann, both giggling at the camera and showing off their outfits. Not surprisingly, the girl had decided to grace the Big Apple once more with her schoolgirl wardrobe and that alone was enough to make the drummer gain a few more white hairs. What nearly put him in cardiac arrest, though, was the sight of his son twirling around wearing the same bloody thing. Pleated skirt, blond wig, tie and all. Jesus _fuck_. Those two were going to be the death of him.

Not for a second Roger was bothered by the fact that his youngest son was dressed in drag. In fact, any other day, the drummer would have had laughed his ass off. Rufus didn’t look half bad as a girl and his sisters probably wouldn’t let him live that one down. However, that particular ensemble was too iconic and having Ann with the twin outfit right next to him certainly would be the nail on his secret’s coffin. For, someone would have to be entirely blind to miss how ridiculously similar the blondes were to each other. From their sparkling blue eyes to their naughty smile, Ann and Rufus could have passed as twins in a heartbeat.

“What did you _do_ , Freddie?” John whispered to his left, eyes glued to the scene before them.

“Aren’t they _marvelous_ , darlings?” The singer beamed at his handiwork and the giggling duo proudly twirled once more to show their clothes. “Ruf here was adamant in joining the fun.”

“Well… If they’re going to talk about Ann’s ass, might as well talk about mine too.” The blond boy shrugged and the young guitarist threw him a grateful look. “What do you say dad? I think that I make a better schoolgirl than you.”

Roger took in a sharp breath and tried his best to hide to paralyzing anxiety threatening to take over him. He knew that some people were already making comparisons on the internet. It was only a matter of time before someone said the _right_ thing and reporters started to take those theories seriously. The fact that no one was shoving a mic at his face to demand answers was a bloody miracle, actually. Parading Rufus around in the same iconic outfit surely wasn’t the smartest move. Yet, Roger didn’t have the heart to be mad at him. The boy was just having fun and he would be damned before he spoiled something as innocent as two friends matching clothes.

“I don’t know, son. I made quite an impression back in the day.” The drummer teased and Rufus faked indignation at his words.

“Also, you have some tough competition now, love.” Brian commented lightheartedly as he kept looking from one blonde to the other. “Am I the only one astonished by how those two look alike?”

“No way, Bri. I’m clearly prettier.” Rufus bragged and fluffed his blonde wig for good measure, making the old guitarist laugh at his antics and allowing Roger to breathe a teensy bit better.

John looked like he was about to choke on all the words he was biting back and the drummer felt incredibly thankful for his friend’s self-control. On the other side of the room, Freddie glanced worriedly at his husband and then back again to Roger, who stared right back at him, daring the singer to say something to his face.

Then, something clicked inside of his brain and Roger immediately turned his attention back to his _daughter_.

In the middle of so much chaos, he had failed to realize that it was the first time he was seeing her after having talked to Carol. Once the thought hit him, though, it had taken all of his strength and will to physically hold himself in the same place. His heart throbbed with the need of wrapping his arms around his little girl and never letting her go again. He had known before. Or course he had. But, finally looking at her after being a hundred per cent _sure_ , was just too much for him. His little Harry had grown into an extraordinary young woman and he wanted nothing more than shower her with all the praise and love she deserved.

“Are you alright, mate?” Brian’s voice startle him and Roger nearly jumped as the guitarist gently held his shoulder. “Rog?”

“What? Oh, yes. I’m fine.” The drummer muttered and tried to look anywhere but at the hazel eyes that seemed to be staring right into his soul. Trying to keep his emotions under control, he summoned his cheekiest grin before he dared to look up again. “Just accepting the fact that I lost the title of prettiest girl in the room.”

“You are damn pretty and you know it, Taylor.” Brian offered with a playful chuckle and a soft pat on his back that made a pink tone color his cheeks. Thank _fuck_ for his beard.

“Don’t we have a concert to play?” John spoke impatiently and that seemed to be enough to make everybody start moving.

With a last soft glance, Brian walked towards his guitar case as Freddie turned his attention to the blonde pair in front of him. The trio looked more than ready to hit the stage with their naughty skirts, for the young musicians, and sparkling jacket, in the singer’s case, that seemed to capture all the light in room. Next to Roger, John started to check his own bass guitar and the drummer didn’t have much to do other than grab his sticks and twirl them to keep his hands occupied. Before actually entering the stage, they would all do a warm up for their vocal chords, but he had little hope of singing much that night. His voice would be completely wrecked until the next day, at the very least.

As everybody prepared and got the final touches ready, Roger allowed himself to get lost in thought. Some tough days were ahead of them. Part of him was filled with dread for he had no idea of what to expect from Brian once the secret came out. The guitarist could easily kill him or never speak to him again. Ann might never forgive him for giving her away, no matter how good his intentions had been. Also, if John’s disappointment in him was any indication, Freddie also wouldn’t be too happy about it.

Yet, his heart could do nothing but flutter, as his daughter looked so happy with her familiar grin and her fierce red guitar. She looked so much like himself that the drummer felt incredibly proud. However, it was the softness of her eyes, the delicate shape of her cheekbones and all the kindness that she had in her heart that made him love her even more. Because, under the surface, she was all Brian. That charming, tall, funny dork was every bit of her father’s daughter and that was something Roger could never regret. Among all of his bad decisions, going against all the hardships, through all his pain, having had Ann was the best thing he could ever had done.

“Are you sure that you’re okay, dad?” Rufus tentatively asked him and it took a second for the drummer to realize that his kids were standing right next to him, both ready to head to the stage.

“Just tired, son.” He spoke convincingly enough and offered both of them a small smile. “Shall we go?”

Already by the door, Freddie threw him a concerned glance and the drummer nodded at him in a silent confirmation that he was, indeed, good to go. Not entirely believing him, his friend nodded back before addressing the whole room. “Let’s rock this city, darlings!”

Chuckling, Roger gripped tighter his drumsticks as he followed his bandmates out of the room. His problems could wait a bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I guess this was the pause before the storm. I don’t know. As I said, I’m not very happy about this one. Yet, I felt like some breather was necessary before we continued with the drama. 
> 
> About Rufus and the Rogerina outfit… I think he and Ann were having a wonderful time with it. If he can’t stop the creeps from commenting on her outfits and she surely isn’t going to hide, he might as well join her on it. I don’t know. It felt like something my brother would do to protect me and to have some fun at the same time. Later, probably in the next chapter, this will be more relevant. You’ll see. 
> 
> I want to cover so much from this story! Yet, it would mean so many words! What was supposed to be a handful of paragraphs became over TWO THOUSAND WORDS. I don’t even know how this happens. 
> 
> Well, for the next chapter, if everything goes accordingly to the plan, the drama will be back full force. Remember, I’m trying to keep this under 15 chapters if possible. Let’s see how it goes. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! You guys are wonderful!! 
> 
> Your comments and kudos mean the world to me!! <333333333
> 
> Lots of love!!  
> Xx


	12. Chapter XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small peek at their night after the concert and the following morning. Also, an innocent question leads to a much bigger conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Here is the next chapter!! Sorry about the wait. I’m still sick, but I didn’t want to delay this any longer. As promised, big revelations are head. This chapter is huge! 
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your wonderful support!! You guys are the reason why I continue writing. Truly, thank you for all the motivation! 
> 
> My wonderful sister, @marveltrwsh, thank you for all of your help. You are the best. <3
> 
> No major warnings apply to this chapter, I believe. A guy gets a bit too handsy, though.
> 
> Enjoy!!

Had anyone told Ann a few years ago that she would be playing with _Queen_ , to a sold out stadium in New York, she would have probably laughed so hard at it that she would’ve cracked a rib or two.

She could hardly believe her luck to have been given that opportunity. It was, without a doubt, a dream come true to be able to join the band, even if for a short period. As she had the pleasure of finding out first handed, they were not only rock _legends_ , but also incredible people who she had the honor of calling friends. Naturally, she had imagined that they would be awesome since a long time ago, when she was just a little girl back in England, completely enamored with their music. It takes special people to make songs like that. Therefore, she was hardly surprised that they turned out to be even more amazing than what she had first assumed.

The sound of their glasses clicking and the collective laughter around her made Ann focus back on their surroundings. Somehow, Freddie had convinced everybody to head to a new club that had opened in town, with an exhilarating speech about celebrating their time in the Big Apple. Perhaps the combo of her and Rufus turning their combined puppy eyes at them had something to do with the success of the invitation. With their mischievous forces united, there was very little that the grinning trio couldn’t do. 

As thrilled as she felt, though, for being there commemorating the success of the American leg of the tour, the young guitarist wasn’t so sure anymore if that had been their smartest decision. Not that she wasn’t having a lovely time, with Rufus dragging her to the dance floor every other minute and Freddie doing his best to cheer everyone around them. However, she could tell that there was an odd tension in the air. If John’s behavior was anything to go by, something was clearly wrong, for during all their time together, Ann had never seen the bassist drown glass after glass of liquor that fast.

Not to mention, Roger, who usually enthusiastically joined them when there was fun to be had at a party, looked two breaths away from collapsing on his seat. Brian’s solid presence right next to him was, probably, the only thing keeping the drummer in a sitting position. From the concerned look on his face, the guitarist was probably thinking around the same lines. As he quietly nursed his drink and politely participated on the ongoing conversation, Ann could see him keeping a trained eye on his exhausted friend.

“I think your dad is nearly falling asleep.” She commented with a concerned tone, only loud enough to capture Rufus’ attention over the music. They were currently waiting for the bartender to finish mixing their drinks so they could head back to their table.

After looking in his direction for a moment, the young drummer worriedly narrowed his eyes and nodded his head, some blond strands falling from his twisted bun. “I think you’re right. Any idea of what was bothering him earlier?”

Ann bit her lip and shook her head. They both had agreed, before the show, that Roger’s excuse of being _just_ tired wasn’t completely honest. He surely looked ready to sleep for _days_ after the concert, but something was telling Ann that maybe there was more to it than what he was letting them on. She knew that it wasn’t her place to poke around and persuade him to open up. Yet, she couldn’t help herself but feel quite worried about him. Even if they hadn’t been friends for _fifty years_ , she liked to think they had built a good friendship on the past weeks.

“I’ll tell you what.” Rufus’ spoke determinedly as he wiped the tickling hair from his face. “Let’s finish these drinks and call it a night. I’m quite tired myself and someone should drag dad to bed.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll help you.” Ann agreed and smiled fondly as the blond tresses fell right back to the drummer’s face. With a soft sigh, she pulled her own hair loose and offered him her hairband. After the little stunt that he had pulled tonight with that outfit to support her, she felt like he owed him a pretty big time.

“You’re a life saver.” He happily thanked her as he secured his hair with the elastic, eyes shining with relief, and pressed a loud peck on her cheek. “Do you mind getting the drinks? I need to use the loo.”

“Sure. Wash your hands.” Ann replied with a smirk, which earned her an eye roll and a playful scoff before Rufus made his way to the other side of the club. Teasing him about such silly things felt so natural that it always brought a smile to her lips.

As Ann waited for the drinks, she stopped to think about what she would do once they all went back to London on the following night. It was predicted that they would arrive at Heathrow on the small hours of the morning and she had solid plans of falling face first on her bed as soon as possible. For, as much as their hotels had been extremely comfortable, there was nothing better than the feeling of her own mattress and pillows. The only thing that would be missing would be her dog, but she was trying not to be too disappointed by that.

Normally, she would go straight to her mother’s house after such a long trip. However, this time that wouldn’t be possible. Ella had been invited to spend some time at an old friend’s farm back in Scotland and the music teacher had jumped at the opportunity of resting for a bit in the countryside and taking Astra to explore the green fields. She had offered to come back earlier and have a proper reception waiting for Ann, but the young guitarist discouraged her from it. After all, it had been _ages_ since her mother had been on vacation and she could wait a bit longer to see her. She wasn’t a child anymore.

Yet, she couldn’t help but miss her mother _terribly_. They had hardly talked these past few days, since Ella’s phone had godawful reception on the farm and their calls were usually short due to that. Internet was out of the question and, perhaps, that was for the best. Her mother would probably be worried out of her mind if she had caught wind of all the shenanigans she, Rufus and Freddie had been up to lately. Or worse, the theories that people had been plastering all over her Instagram.

Ann was having a hard time with those. She was trying her damn best not to pay attention to them, but after last night’s performance, it was almost as if a dam had collapsed. A hundred pictures and posts had been shared with her and after she realized what they were about, she didn’t even bother opening them anymore. She didn’t need that. In fact, her annoyance was growing to downright anger at such silly comparisons. After so many years living with her own doubts and insecurities, the last thing she wanted was to have people flaunting on her face ridiculous ideas that would only bring her a heavy heart if she stopped to consider them.

She _got it_. Her parents didn’t want her. Maybe they had loved her at some point, if her songs were to be believed, but clearly, they didn’t care anymore. Ann had literally done everything she could to be someone that complete strangers could be proud of. She had hoped, studied, and _ached_ to touch the stars, just to see if they had something to tell her. She had given her heart to music and even managed to play with one of the most famous rock bands in the world. Yet, nobody cared. Not a single soul had come looking for her. She wasn’t hiding. She didn’t want anything from them and if they had kept track of their damn money, they should know that by now. She just needed _answers_.

Trying to push that line of thought out of her head, she turned her glance back to their table. Freddie had a big smile on his face as he excitedly talked with John, who looked a bit less tense after all the alcohol he had already ingested and looked adoringly to his husband’s face. Next to him, Roger had his head precariously resting on his fist as he tried to pay attention to what the singer was saying, his own glass also empty. The only one who looked remotely sober, was Brian, who laughed softly at whatever had been said before he turned to look in the direction of the bar.

He offered Ann a small smile once he saw her and she could see his frown from afar, as he noticed Rufus’ absence. The two of them had volunteered to fetch their drinks a few minutes ago and since then, the old guitarist had tried to keep an eye on them as well. Not wanting to worry him and hoping to get the correct message across, she motioned with her head in the direction of the toilets and, after a few seconds, Brian seemed to understand. With a nod, he turned back his attention to Freddie and Ann decided to try to get closer to the counter in order to check if their drinks were ready.

Suddenly, she felt a large hand wrap around her waist, her short top not doing much to prevent direct contact with her skin, and she turned around to see to whom the invasive limb belonged. A bit startled, but not surprised, she was met with the wicked grin of the guy she had been flirting with earlier as a favor to Rufus. The drummer had been eyeing a girl earlier on the dance floor, who seemed quite interested in him, but this dude, Matt, Mark, Miles, or whatever was his name, was already trying to hit on her. Being the wonderful friend she was, Ann had agreed to distract him for a minute, so Rufus could have a chance. But that had been over an hour ago and she thought that the guy would have long forgotten her. Apparently not.

“Hey there, cutie. I thought that I had lost you.” He spoke with a predatory smile as he brought his other hand to grab her waist.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m not really interested.” Said Ann confidently, not bothering to beat around the bush. If looks could kill, the guy would already be a mere chalk drawing on the floor. Yet, he didn’t take the hint.

“Come on now, blondie. You owe me a good time after your brother stole that girl from me.” Matt, Mark, Miles grunted, losing the soft edge of his tone and tightening his grasp.

Ann gasped as his fingers dug deeper onto her skin and at how ridiculous his assumptions sounded. Nearly snarling, she pushed at his shoulders as she tried to take a step back. “People aren’t your property, mate. Let’s start with that. Second, I don’t owe you _shit_. Get your bloody hands off of me.”

“Don’t be difficult, cutie. I can show you a wonderful time.” He pressed on further, his hands not budging an inch, in spite of her efforts. Ann was seriously considering punching his nose when a familiar figure appeared behind the guy and she clenched her teeth. Bothering her friends with this clown was the last thing she needed.

“Kindly let go of her, please.” Brian commanded, his tone not leaving any doubts that that he meant business despite of his polite words. The young guitarist hadn’t seen him coming, but wasn’t surprised to find him there.

Clearly drunk and not caring a single bit about his own wellbeing, though, the asshole slid further his left arm around her waist, pulling Ann flush against his side and offering a greasy grin to the older man. “I don’t think so. Blondie here owes me big time.”

“It wasn’t a request, son.” He warned as he took a step closer. His eyes were trained on them, burning with fury under his calm expression. Suddenly, the young guitarist could see why the boys had been more scared of him than Roger in these circumstances. Whereas the drummer was loud and harsh, Brian acted as a silent threat and that was far more dangerous.

“What are you going to do about that, grandpa?” Matt, Mark, Miles sneered full of bravado, which annoyed Ann to no end. She seriously lacked the patience to deal with assholes like that.

Before the guitarist could answer, she swiftly brought up her knee, mercilessly hitting her easy target and allowing herself to feel a bit of satisfaction as the guy bent over in pain and finally removed his hands from her. Not wasting time, she took a few steps back and tried to ignore the raised eyebrow she was getting from Brian. In her experience, turning her back to assholes like him was never a good idea. Even if she had a bunch of people already paying attention to their fight, she knew better.

“You fucking _cunt_.” He grunted as he gripped his bulge through his pants and snarled at her.

“Watch your language, boy. I think the lady has made it pretty clear she is not interested.” Brian interfered and gently touched her arm to get her attention. Ann hadn’t even realized she had her hands closed into fists, every nerve of her body putting her in an high alert state, ready to throw a punch if necessary. His hand felt warm against her skin and the young guitarist let herself start to relax again. Nothing bad would happen to her with Brian around.

“Whatever, dude. This one is fucking crazy.” Matt, Mark, Miles hissed and made a face as he turned around. It wasn’t until he was out of sight, though, that she felt her breathing stabilizing.

Even if she was perfectly capable of defending herself in these situations, she couldn’t help but feel nervous for the entire duration of it. She wasn’t a teenage sneaking to parties anymore, too afraid to pick up a fight with a guy and always relying on her friends for support. She had to learn how to throw a punch on the hard way, but it proved itself as an excellent skill to have around. Long was the time she took shit from guys like that. Yet, she knew better than to think the danger was over until she was safely back at her house. She was a fighter, not stupid.

“Did he hurt you, honey?” Brian kindly asked her and she turned her sharp blue eyes at him, her look immediately softening once she saw the genuine concern on his face.

“I’ll probably have a bruise or two. It’s fine. Thank you for the help, though.” She answered almost shyly, hoping her voice could be heard over the music.

“Don’t mention it. Plus, you had it covered. I hardly did a thing.” He offered her a light chuckle and patted her back. A second ago, he looked ready to murder the bloody sod bothering her, now, he was a giant teddy bear, proudly looking at her.

“Don’t tell Ruf, please. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hunted the guy down to further damage his balls.” She asked with a small smile, knowing she was exaggerating a bit to get her point across. Not that Rufus wouldn’t probably do something like that and, honestly, she wouldn’t have minded. But she didn’t want to make her friend feel guilty for leaving her alone.

“I’m still considering doing it myself.” The guitarist confessed with a sigh. “But the important thing is that you are alright.”

“I am. I think we can call it a night, though.” She said tiredly as they headed back to their table, where Roger had his eyes half closed while Freddie and John whispered between each other. Humming in agreement, Brian gently directed his attention to their drummer, carefully shaking him awake and convincing him to stand up.

“Are we going back to the hotel, darlings?” The singer asked, his voice still cheerful, but also showing some signs of exhaustion.

“We are, mate. Start moving.” Brian answered automatically as he guided a confused Roger to an upright position and the others followed suit. “The cab won’t fit all of us, though.”

“You go ahead and take Rog to bed, darling. Poor thing looks ready to hit the sack. We’ll settle the bill and wait for Ruf.” Freddie suggested as he tangled his hands with John’s, who looked quite tired and definitely drunk himself, and nodded at Ann.

“Will do. Text me when you get there, though.” He replied, already leading the sleepy drummer to the exit and throwing a meaningful look in the young guitarist’s direction.

Ann fondly observed as the two of them made their way across the club and she felt her heart filling with warmth. When she was just a little girl all those years ago, she had imagined meeting her idols. Now, she was much more thankful for having met her _friends_. She knew that each one of them had her back and would care for her no matter what. Be it with Brian’s silent protection and mentorship, Roger’s soaring laughter and warm hugs, John’s fierce care and constant mothering, Freddie’s partnership for shenanigans and his loyalty, and Rufus’ constant presence, which never failed to put a smile in her face.

Screw her parents. Turns out, she had found a family all of her own.

 

…

 

Instead of the pounding headache he had expected, Roger found himself once more waking up more well rested than he deserved, with warm arms around him and Brian’s solid presence making his heart flutter in his chest.

He vaguely remembered going back to the hotel, already too tired to fight back against his exhaustion. He had been completely emotionally drained and their concert had definitely taken all energy he still had left. Had it not been for his kids persuasive secret weapon, he would have passed going to the club altogether. He supposed it was karma’s work in action. For too long, he had been the one using and abusing of the power of the Taylor Puppy Eyes. If you asked any of his bandmates, they would have agreed that it served him damn well to fall victim of it for once.

Which he _didn’t_ recall, though, was how he ended up with nearly two meters of guitarist wrapped around him. They were both comfortably tucked under the covers and, as far as he could tell, he still had his underwear on and, somehow, he was wearing a pajama shirt. As for Brian, once he dared to peek, he realized that his friend was nearly fully clothed. His jeans were unbuckled and his shirt had more buttons opened than normal, but that was about it. If that was a blessing or a curse, Roger still hadn’t decided.

Waking up next to Brian wasn’t anything strange to him. After all these years of friendship, it wasn’t the first time they had to share a bed. As age came to them, it had become more and more normal for them to fall asleep together while watching a movie or chatting the night away while on tour. If Roger felt extremely guilty afterwards, that was something he had to learn how to deal with. At first, he tried to avoid such events and suppress his unrequired feelings. However, as time passed, his will kept faltering and he decided to allow himself to enjoy the moment and feel miserable later.

How curious that the one time he actually had sex to Brian, he didn’t get to share his bed. Yet, as friends, they had done it more times that he could count. As he closed his eyes again, Roger started to pay attention to the small details around him. He always loved that part. Brian’s hair was lightly tickling his neck, where the guitarist had his face buried and his soft breaths were making the drummer’s skin pleasantly warm. Long arms were gently wrapped around his chest, hands peacefully resting on the mattress and their legs were completely tangled.

Being right there, so intimately held by Brian, was probably his favorite place in the universe. The world could catch fire around them, and Roger probably would still lay peacefully in his arms. The secret, though, was never letting the guitarist realize he had been already awake. For that would cause, without a fail, the loveliest tones of red to spread all over his complexion and he would spend _days_ hardly looking at the drummer in the eyes. For someone who liked to cuddle so much, his friend was certainly a prude.

Roger hated to make him uncomfortable, though. Especially if it meant losing his favorite teddy bear. Therefore, he laid as still as possible and patiently waited for Brian to wake up, disentangle their limbs and pretend he hadn’t spent the night treating him as a pillow. Sometimes, the task was easy as breathing. However, once in a while, staying still was complete _torture_ , due to the tempting hardiness pressing so deliciously on his ass. On _those_ mornings, Brian would get himself out of the bed faster than lightening and Roger would feel guiltier than ever for enjoying far too much a natural body reaction from his _asleep_ friend. That was a new low. Even from him.

That morning, though, was one of the easy kind. He had been so tired, that it didn’t surprise him in the slightest the fact that he fell asleep once more and woke up with Brian already on the other side of the bed. To his delight, the guitarist had decided to gently run his fingers through his hair as he quietly checked his phone and the domesticity of it made Roger’s heart _ache_. Yet, he allowed himself to enjoy his soft touch and whisper a raspy good morning.

“Are you alive, mate?” Brian teased him, his fingers never faltering from the gentle caress.

“What time is it?” He asked as he tried to blink away the sleepiness from his eyes and pretend not to melt under his friend’s clever ministration.

“A bit past ten. Plenty of time to catch the plane. Don’t worry.” Came the soft reply. If possible, Roger would have liked to stay like that _forever_. Yet, he knew that the guitarist would soon head to his own room to freshen up and pack his bags for their trip.

When Brian actually started to get up after a few minutes later, the drummer did his best to try to hide his disappointment, but the astrophysics chuckled at him anyway and muttered under his breath something about him being an overgrown cat. Roger was too blissed out to care or bite back a remark. Plus, if being a cat earned him such soft caresses, he didn’t mind being one a single bit. It wasn’t until Brian had left the room, though, that he allowed his body to fully awake and the guilt to settle in.

Every hour he spent not telling the truth felt like a stab on his heart. It used to be easier before, when Ann only existed in his memory and the idea of finding her again wasn’t even a possibility. Now, with her so close to them, keeping everybody in the dark was becoming nearly impossible. Even if he had already spent years hiding that secret from his best friends, these past hours felt like a much worse betrayal. Because she was _right there_.

He had no idea how on Earth he would break the news. Nor to whom he should talk first. In fact, he wasn’t certain about a damn thing, to be honest. It all felt like a house of cards ready to collapse with his next breath and the emotional drain of it all was killing him. He wasn’t young and stubborn anymore. He was _tired_. His baby girl was right across the hall and all he wanted was for things to be _fine_. It was unavoidable to hurt them, though. Brian would certainly hate him for his lies and Ann might not ever want to talk to him again. He wasn’t ready to lose them both. Not like that.

Convincing himself that staying in bed wouldn’t solve his problems, though, Roger made himself get up, take a shower and start packing his own bags before John could come scold him for leaving things for the last minute. With any luck, that would be the only scolding he would receive that day, if the bassist had managed not to tell his husband about his secret. The drummer wasn’t putting much faith on his ability of dodging Freddie for too long, but, at least, he hoped it would last until they were back to England. At least, over there, their health insurance and funeral arrangements would be much easier to deal with.

It wasn’t until a soft knocking came through his door that Roger realized how long he had actually taken to pack all of his things. According to his watch, it was almost two o’clock and according to his stomach, he had definitely missed lunch. On the bright side, most of his belongings were neatly tucked away in their proper bags and he only had to worry about picking up last minute items. For someone who always made everybody else late, having everything organized on time was a new record.

Moving to get the door, the drummer was a bit surprised to find a worried looking Ann on the other side. She seemed a bit tense, but smiled openly once she saw him and happily raised a box of chocolate chip cookies as a peace offering.

“Hungry?” She asked softly and Roger chuckled at her earnest look.

“Absolutely. Come in, love.” He spoke with a gentle tone and moved aside to let her in the room. If she was slightly surprised to see his bags good to go, she only raised an eyebrow, but decided against commenting on it.

They both decided to settle on the bed and the drummer eagerly started to eat the sweet treat as he watched her fiddle with her fingers for a while. It wasn’t the first time they shared as snack in comfortable silence. In fact, he found it quite endearing that she had inherited his sweet tooth and taking a few moments to eat sweets behind John’s back had become one of their favorite pastimes. However, he could see something was bothering her today and he figured it would be better to wait and see if she would like to talk about it.

“Are you feeling better?” Ann asked after a minute and the question caught him off guard.

“What do you mean, love?” He danced around the subject and cleverly stuck a whole cookie in his mouth to buy him more time.

“Well… I don’t mean to pry and you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” She started and kept her eyes glued to her fingers as she continued. “It’s just… you weren’t only tired yesterday, were you?”

Sighing, Roger shifted uncomfortably on the mattress. Of course, he could count on his daughter to be a perceptive person. He completely blamed Brian’s side of the genetic pool for it. Trying to keep his lies to a minimum, he answered. “No, I wasn’t. But I’ll be fine. Hopefully.”

“Is there anything I can do?” She asked with a small voice and the drummer wanted to punch himself. He didn’t deserve her caring. There was, probably, a godlike entity mocking him for it.

“I’m afraid not much.” He offered with a defeated tone. Looking at her, so earnest and concerned next to him made his heart clench at the prospect of losing her forever. As she kept fidgeting with her fingers, though, he could see that she was still tense and that made him wonder if there was something bothering her. “What about you, love? Are you okay?”

Ann was quiet for a minute. A sad shadow crossed her face and Roger started to get concerned. Setting the cookies aside, he scooped closer to her side of the bed and gently took hold of her trembling hands. Without any resistance, she carefully entangled their fingers as she looked up to study his face. Her impossibly blue eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I’m being silly, I suppose.” She spoke and bit her lower lip, shyly looking away.

To be honest, the young guitarist wasn’t entirely sure about what had gotten her so upset. She had the vague notion that things had been building up in her chest for a while. Firstly, she missed talking to her mother with more frequency. Secondly, that whole drama on Instagram started and she didn’t feel safe going there do distract her thoughts anymore. Then, to top it all, there was the incident from last night.

Not that she had been deeply affected by the unwanted attention and that guy’s complete lack of boundaries. That wasn’t the first asshole she had to deal with and probably he wouldn’t be the last. Something he had said, though, was bothering her to no end. He had called Rufus her _brother_ and that hurt her more than she had first assumed. Becoming his friend was probably one of the best things that had happened to her all year. She truly saw on him someone she could trust. But the word still stung. _Brother_. She had always wanted one and, for this first time, she actually felt like she had it.

She hadn’t stopped to think about it since such a long time, though. As a child, she always wondered about her parents. Did they have more children? Did she have brothers and sisters out there? Did they keep them? And if they did, why not her? All of those doubts came back like vicious poison to her brain. That, added to all her latest disappointments regarding her biological parents sent he on a rollercoaster of feelings she honestly didn’t want to deal with. She felt vulnerable, lonely and, more than ever, _not wanted_.

“Anything that makes you this sad cannot be silly, love.” Roger whispered as he gently caught her tears with his thumb and she felt a wave of gratitude for the sweet gesture.

“I don’t know how to explain it, though.” She offered with a small voice and the drummer softly hummed his acknowledgement. Trying to make sense, she continued. “It’s just… People have been posting these things online, and they brought back so many question I had in the past. I don’t… I was _fine_.”

“What kind of things, honey?” He asked encouragingly and Ann shook her head as her cheeks flushed. She didn’t need to bring those silly theories to his attention. That wasn’t the point.

“Not important, I guess. But they made me think about my biological parents.” Ann confessed and brought her free hand to play with her hair. It was the first time she talked about that subject with someone else and she was quite nervous. Yet, she could tell that Roger would never judge her for being silly. “I mean… Did they even love me?”

Roger’s blood _froze_ in his veins and he had to fight down his gasp. His lungs were already burning as he had been trying for a while to keep his fast breath under control in order to be supportive. But that was becoming a rapidly losing battle. Inside of his chest, his heart was breaking into a million pieces as he listened to his little girl saying those things.

“I used to think they did.” She continued, completely unware of his own emotional turmoil, and he wanted to scream into a pillow just to see if it could make his pain stop. “I don’t know now. They… They haven’t even _looked_ for me. It’s not as if I’ve been hiding. They just… forgot, I guess.”

He didn’t know what to say. His brain cells were imploding inside of his head in search of words, but what _could_ he say? He didn’t know if he could do it. If he could tell the truth. Yet, he wouldn’t dare to lie to her face. Not like this. Not while she opened her heart to him. _That_ , he knew it would be something she would never forgive him for. Before he could speak, though, she looked back at him and the sight of her heartbroken face and wet cheeks was enough to make his own eyes lose the battle against his own tears.

“Oh, Rog. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” She spoke gently as she kneeled on the bed and gave him a small smile, which he most definitely didn’t deserve. Gently, she brought her hands over his cheeks to return the favor and her kindness provoked a fresh wave of tears on his eyes. “Sorry. I just… I had to talk to someone. It’s not a nice feeling. Wondering if you were wanted at all.” She continued and that did it.

He couldn’t do this to her. It was too much.

With trembling fingers, he carefully held her wrists and took a moment just to admire her face. He had no idea how she would react and if he could allow himself to be selfish just for a moment longer, he wanted to memorize her face. From her bright blue eyes to her perfectly drawn lips, she looked so much like him that Roger felt like looking into a mirror to the past. Yet, her delicate cheekbones, wild curls and the sheer kindness in her eyes were enough to remind him exactly who her father was. She was perfect. Had always been. And now she would hate him forever.

“You were wanted.” He said with more confidence than he knew that he had.

Ann felt the intensity of his gaze and the power of his words got her breath caught on her throat. It felt nice to hear it, even if he couldn’t possibly have known. “Thank you, Rog. But you don’t have to do this.”

“No. You were _wanted_.” He repeated, eyes filling up again with tears. “You were wanted and loved during _every second_ of your life. Don’t you ever doubt that.”

“I-Rog?” She whispered in confusion. She had no idea where he was going with this.

“You were _tiny_. Not even six pounds. You were tiny and pink and the most beautiful baby I had ever seen.” Roger continued, voice heavy with emotion and Ann tried to make sense of what he was saying. It felt like a lot of information in a very short amount of time and her brain just wasn’t processing it.

“W-Why are you s-saying t-his?” She brokenly asked, not trusting herself to make the connections right in front of her.

“Because it’s the _t-truth_. I-I can’t do this anymore. You have to know.” He half whispered, hands shaking around her wrists and eyes burning with so much intensity that she felt it was impossible to look anywhere else. “You’re mine, love. You’re my tiny baby girl and I have thought about you every second of every day. My Harry. You were _loved_. _So much_. And by no one more than me.”

Ann gasped and she could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage. There wasn’t enough air in the room and drawing each breath felt more difficult than the last one. She barely could see a thing with the amount of tears pooling in her eyes. Her mind was a puzzle, who suddenly had a few missing pieces being falling in place too fast and she felt dizzier than ever. That wasn’t _possible_.

“You are my father.” She dared to say out loud and the idea sounded so preposterous that she almost regretted speaking it, afraid Roger would laugh at her.

“I am.” Came the confirmation instead and she felt her body collapsing on the bed. Her whole body was shaking under the shock and she needed a minute to collect herself.

“You knew it all along?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t know what to feel. When she came here earlier, that was most definitely not the conversation she had expected to have. On top of it all, she felt betrayed.

“I suspected when I saw you. Confirmed yesterday.” Roger answered as he pressed the heel of his hands against his forehead. “I had no idea where you were before you showed up. All I knew is that you were alive and well. It was part of the deal.”

_The deal_.

It sounded so _dirty_. She was a _baby_ , not an object to be traded. Good Lord.

“ _Why_?” She spoke, not entirely sure of what she as asking. All she knew was that her world was falling apart right under her feet.

“I couldn’t keep you. I wanted to. God knows it’s what I’ve wanted the most. But I _couldn’t_.” He spoke, his tone heavy and borderline desperate. Yet, nothing made sense. She didn’t know how to _react_.

“And you had to give me away?!” Ann nearly screamed in frustration. From all her swirling emotions, she could feel anger coming to the surface. “There were two of you! _Nobody_ could have kept me?”

“There _weren’t_. It was just me.” He spoke in defeat, too afraid to upset her even further.

This whole conversation was a major train wreck. That certainly hadn’t been the most tactful way he could have broken the news. But what could he have done? He couldn’t force himself to bear that secret for any second longer. Not when she was _right there_ , pleading for answers she didn’t know he had.

“That doesn’t make any _sense_.” She replied, burying her hands in her curls and he had to suppress the urge to do the same. If he had been on her place, he would have been pretty confused as well.

“I’m a male carrier.” Roger explained, going straight to the point. “It was just me and I couldn’t… I was old and alone. Just the fact that you were born without complications was a _miracle_. My tiny little girl. And I had to give you _away_.”

Ann tried to absorb that information. She heard the words, but her brain was suffering from the worst case of delay _ever_. Who could blame her, though? Couldn’t she be fruit of a teenage pregnancy or of someone who truly didn’t care about her? That would make things so much easier to understand. With each answer, her mind came up with a thousand more questions.

As she looked up, she found Roger nervously pacing around the bedroom. She tried to force her imagination to picture what he had said. A pregnant Roger, alone in Switzerland, if her birth certificate could be trusted, giving birth to a tiny little baby he clearly loved but had to send away. That _did_ sound heartbreaking and the side of her, the one who had become his friend during these past weeks, felt her heart fill with sorrow for him. Yet, a bigger part of her brain, the one that reminded her that she was the baby in question, felt at loss of what to feel.

“And my father?” She dared to ask, not sure if she was ready to have one more question answered. The ones she had asked, so far, were still tying a knot on her brain.

“He never knew.” Roger spoke in defeat. “He…”

“Don’t tell me.” Ann interrupted. She was definitely not ready for that yet. She needed time to think. She needed _space_. “Not now. I… I have to go. It’s too much. I’ll see you later.”

The drummer observed as she nervously rambled and got up from the bed. He didn’t know if he should stop her or let her go. If she was anything like him, having that conversation while angry would only result in a major argument. If she had taken after Brian, she definitely would need some time to calm down and absorb the news before they could carry on. At that point, Roger had a strong suspicion that she was rather similar to them both and decided that letting her go was probably the best option.

As she left, slamming the door on her way out, he let himself collapse on a chair and he tiredly rested his head on his closed fist. That was, absolutely, how he had _not_ planned their talk to go. Inside of his chest, his heart felt completely hollow as he stared at the door and wondered how long it would take before they could start again. Part of him couldn’t help but fear that he would lose her forever. All of sudden, he found his brain taking him back all the way to that cursed apartment in Switzerland, as the vivid memories of Carol taking his baby away, under his request, haunted his thoughts once more.

Fighting back against his tears, he allowed his body to fully sink onto the cushion. At least, part of the weight he was carrying had been lifted from his shoulder. He still had to face Brian, but that was something he would _not_ be doing that day _for sure_. His heart could only take so much. Also, if any of them were to have a stroke, he preferred to have their own doctors nearby.

Sighing in defeat, Roger looked around the room in order to see what could possibly keep him occupied for the next few hours, but nothing caught his attention. Instead, he decided to check on Rufus to see if the boy had started with his luggage. If there was one person in the band even worse than him to be on time, that would be his son. Also, a part of his brain, that didn’t entirely make sense, convinced him that having the blond around would, somehow sooth a bit his aching heart. Just like he had all those years ago.

Not surprisingly, the young drummer hadn’t even _started_ and Roger never felt more happy to occupy his time with something so boring as packing clothes. Part of him wanted to check on Ann as well, but he didn’t dare. Just like Brain she had always been ready on time and she liked to travel lightly, so she wouldn’t have much to worry about. Also, he had a feeling she might not be ready to talk to him just yet. Being stuck on the plane would be awkward enough.

When the time came to go to the airport, Freddie waltzed inside of Rufus’ bedroom with barely a knock and pleasantly looked around at his ready to go bags.

“All set, my darlings?” He inquired and stretched his neck to see if they had forgotten something. “Good. You too, Rog?”

“Ready, mate. Whenever you want.” He confirmed and Freddie nodded proudly at him.

“That’s a first.” He teased as he helped to get the bags out of the room. “Go get them so we can move along, darling.”

Rolling his eyes, the drummer made his way back to his room and was just finishing loading his own luggage to the hotel’s cart when John suddenly appeared in front of him, eyes agape with concern and short of breath.

“What did you _do_?” He demanded between gasps, his hand tightly gripping his chest.

“What do you mean?” Roger asked in confusion.

“Ann, you bloody sod!” He shouted, hands flying to the air in frustration and a heavy feeling settled inside of his chest.

“What happened to her?” He spoke hurriedly, voice dripping with worry and John nervously rubbed his face.

“She’s gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cat it out of the bag! I’m so happy we finally got to this point! 
> 
> This thing got completely out of proportion. I wanted a small POV from Ann before we carried on and a tiny Maylor moment, but the thing became HUGE. I honestly don’t know how this happens. Once more, the plot gets a life of its own, I guess. 
> 
> I wasn’t happy at all with this chapter, and the revelation was going to be postponed to the next one. But I decided to rewrite and scene and give it a shot. 
> 
> I’m so relieved we are finally here!! Let me know your thought on the comments, please!
> 
> For the next chapter, you can expect the fallout of this one and, if everything goes well, Brian’s turn to receive the news. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! If you can, leave a kudo or a comment. <3
> 
> Lots of love!! <33333333  
> Xx


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